Instead, she was almost certain that John liked her as much as she was attracted to him and that was a heady thought! Riley couldn’t imagine what it would be like to actually be lucky enough to be saddled as someone’s mail order bride from another era and it work out. Being attracted to the big guy wasn’t going to be an issue if he stayed looking like this. But if he slid backwards to the dirty, unshaven, unkempt fellow she had first set eyes upon, it would be a different story.
Waking early that morning to a sharp sting on his shoulder, John had swatted a scorpion off of him. He hated the darned things and they were so hard to see sometimes. He should have expected it sooner or later sleeping on the floor. He always checked his boots. Now, he would need to start checking the pallet he slept on as well.
After working hard in the sun all morning, John had jumped in the pond to cool himself off for a moment. Perhaps the cool water would remove some of the soreness he still felt from the sting he had suffered. He had worked all morning long with a smile on his face, thinking of how sweet she looked as she slept. It had been a long time since he felt so content.
As he was dressing, he heard the shot splinter the silence. He had raced down to the cabin, his heart hammering in fear for Riley’s safety. While living alone and away from town had given him the peace and seclusion he had wanted, it had also made him susceptible to robbery or worse. It would not be the first time that he had found unwanted visitors on his land, nor would it be the last.
The last several years he had been alone, he simply hadn’t cared. He had let himself go, shied away from everyone and simply existed. Now, he couldn’t imagine Riley being hurt.
The light that shone from her eyes, that smile and that temper made him laugh like no other. Even though Lily had kept him company, she didn’t shine like Riley did. He wanted things to go well between them and it seemed so promising. Hearing the shotgun blast, he was terrified of having that happiness and companionship taken away from him again.
Throwing open the heavy wooden door, he was stunned by the scene in front of him. As his eyes surveyed the room, he saw the pale color to Riley’s face as well as the gun. Her face had powder from where it had puffed out from the rifle he kept loaded in the corner of the room. Her hands had the grey substance on them as well. But the look on her face, that horrified look, made him gaze at what he expected to be a body. Instead, he simply saw the remnants of a tarantula that had gotten inside. So, what?
He saw them all the time in the field or emerging from a hole in the ground. Did he like the critters? Hell no, and it hurt like the dickens when he got bit. But shooting the rifle was a bit much! She must have fired at close range because the buckshot was embedded in the wood planks he had carefully laid into place when he built the cabin. Where it wasn’t embedded, there were great gouges in the wood that had splintered. It would need to be smoothed once again.
He was shocked by the fact that she had shot the spider, amused that she had escalated things so quickly and intrigued, once again, by his new bride. His bride who could write better than he could. Who could shoot a rifle. And who seemed to be clueless around the house. She was educated, that much was certain. But the simplest things seemed to surprise her. He wasn’t sure what life was like in the city, but surely there were some elements the same? Riley was a mystery to him.
As John watched her squirm away from the tarantula carcass on the floor, he realized that she must have been terrified in order to shoot it. The urge to hold her for a moment was overwhelming as he pulled her into his arms, enjoying the feel of her body against him.
“There is a pond nearby and I went for a quick swim,” he offered carefully, knowing he had made an ass out of himself by yelling about the mess on the floor. It could be fixed. It could be cleaned. Riley could not be replaced and he didn’t want to cause problems in their relationship. Lily had always claimed to be afraid of him and he didn’t want Riley to share that fear.
“How about you finish preparing something to eat and I will get the mess off the floor,” he offered in lieu of an apology. “Unless you want to clean it up and I will fix lunch?”
At the look of horror on her face, Riley gave him two thumbs down angrily. Amused, John instinctively picked his sweet wife up, swinging her lightly around the room. He liked the way she made him laugh and quickly kissed her.
“Let’s get started,” John told her simply. “I’m starving.” While he had no desire to clean up the disgusting carcass, he did have to admit that it had been quite a large tarantula. His little bride certainly had a fierce temper and it amused him to see it in action. If he had been the spider encountering her wrath, he would have run away quickly! he thought with a grin.
As Riley pulled out of his arms, he couldn’t help but feel the emptiness for a moment. She had made such an impact on his life already that he couldn’t imagine how he had gotten through the last several years. It was as if the sun had peeked out and chased away the shadows, he thought and shook his head. She would make a poet out of him at this rate, he mused lightly.
Her enchanting smile lit up the room and he itched to kiss her again like he had under the stars. Thinking of how sweet she had tasted, he unconsciously gave her a possessive tap on the bottom. His hand could feel the curve of her derrière through the material. That quick touch made his heart lurch. He watched her jump in response and then look over her shoulder at him.
He expected a verbal lashing like Lily would have given him at the inappropriate touch or show of affection but, instead, he received the opposite. Riley gave him a warm smile and looked shyly away as she returned to prepare the meal she had started. The idea that there was a chance his wife could enjoy his touch made him smile widely. While he wanted to leap over the table between them and touch her again, instead he would bide his time. He vowed to make sure it was right for her when he claimed his wife.
Whistling, he cleaned up the mess that the tarantula left on the floor as Riley worked nearby. Once he had picked some of the buckshot out of the floor with the tip of his knife, he left the house to gather a few tools from the barn. Riley was dropping batter on top of some concoction in the cast iron skillet, covering it and placing it on the coals he had banked last night and again this morning. It would be wonderful to have a woman in his home yet again.
Returning to his work, he was glad he had purchased the expensive planer years ago when he built the house. It had been invaluable then and would be so again today. The large planer would get the majority of the upraised splinters off the wood but he would have to be careful so he didn’t create a bigger issue, like having to replace a board or two. Carefully, he glossed it over the wood several times slicing the merest slivers off the top as to just smooth it out. He then grabbed a bucket and horsehair brush, scrubbing away. Nodding to himself at the condition, he stood and took his things back to the barn.
Riley stood at the basin by the sink, watching him. She was only half-paying attention to what she was doing and it surprised him that she had been eyeing him. As he walked out the door and caught her eye, John winked at her. He liked seeing the warmth in her eyes and the pink on her cheeks. The house felt like a home for the first time.
Chapter 6
Never having cooked on coals before, Riley prayed that what she was preparing would just be edible for them both. It was a bit intimidating to feel the heat coming off the coals just inside the fireplace. Pretend it’s a roaring campfire, she thought and then grinned. She’d been camping once in her life. This would be either great or hysterical. She had fried the bacon first, feeling nauseated from the greasy smell and the thought of what John was cleaning behind her. Once done, she poured the hot fat into the small tin on the shelf.
It was the same tin she had knocked onto the floor earlier. When the lid came off, she had found it was full of shortening or lard inside. Thankfully, it was still in a semi-solid state and hadn’t come flying out of the tin when the lid popped off. The thick, greasy smell was almost overwhelming and different f
rom anything she had ever experienced. If she was standing at a fryer in a food truck, she imagined she would get the same smell.
Chopping up the remainder of the ingredients, she carefully shucked the raw corn and cut the kernels from the cob with the smallest knife she could find in the arsenal behind her. Goodness, he had some big knives! They put steakhouse knives to shame. The corn kernels leaped off cob as if it were practically voluntary when she sliced the knife down the side, carefully avoiding her fingers. As sharp as the knife was, if she had caught her finger it would have come clean off!
Putting a large spoonful of the fat back in the skillet, she put the vegetables and chopped up bacon back inside. Carefully, she set the skillet back onto the coals to start cooking the vegetables in the grease. After placing a cast iron lid on top, she made the dough. So, no casserole after all; it’s pot pie today!
Apparently, John owned one single bowl in the house. One. One lonely, ceramic bowl that she would have to be super careful with! Careful was not her middle name. Butterfingers or Clumsy perhaps. If it broke, there would be nothing else to cook with other than skillets or the big iron pot on the hook. Mental note, see if we can buy another bowl next time we go into town. I am one clumsy nitwit! she thought.
She gently whipped an egg with a fork in the bowl and added a bit of cream. Opening the muslin bag of flour, she muffled a groan and shut her eyes. Inside was thick, coarse-looking, dark tan-colored flour. She stared at it for several minutes and got closer to the window to make sure nothing was moving inside. Afraid was not the term she would use to describe it. Nauseated? Doubtful? Regret at passing up that last doughnut at the office? No “enriched white flour” in 1845. No Sara Lee in this kitchen! Was flour ever supposed to be brownish looking?
It’s wheat flour, girl… WHEAT! It’s not dirty or dingy. No bugs in here, yo!
Wheat. Flour. Only!
Grimacing and looking away, she tentatively shook the flour into the bowl. Setting down the bag, she stirred until it reached a thick consistency. If you keep telling yourself it’s wheat, it’s not so bad looking. You are eating natural - and peeps pay good money for wholesome food back home! Five bucks for coffee, fifteen bucks for a pesticide free meal. Not one chemical in this stuff, no sir! All natural, wheeee! she thought sarcastically. What I wouldn’t give for some Cheesecake Factory right now!
Kneeling beside the hissing cast iron skillet, Riley carefully removed the lid and let out her breath. It smelled amazing and looked good so far! She set the hot iron lid on the floor where there was evidence of some other circles burnt into the wood. I’m not the first and won’t be the last branding the floors apparently, she mused. Carefully, she added a bit of butter to the vegetables so they weren’t a greasy mess when served, but also to prevent them from sticking to the pan. Then she dropped large dollops of batter in the pan, atop of the vegetables, in order to form a crust. Putting the lid back on the skillet, she would check it again shortly to make sure it wasn’t horrifically burning to a crisp.
John hadn’t returned from the barn after he left to put away his tools and she assumed he was cleaning them. He had been so fastidious about the shovel, she was certain he must be just as OCD regarding that big block he slid across the floor several times to smooth it out. She had heard the quiet “swoosh” that it made as it gracefully took a film off the flooring. Each curl of wood looked to be almost sheer and it was mesmerizing to watch. She had never seen any sort of carpentry and the last bit of woodwork she had witnessed was on YouTube when she was Googling what a hand crank was used for. That had been a grizzly defense and she was so relieved to lose that case. He had been nuts and needed to be locked away. Sickos! she thought.
Riley returned back to the tin basin that served as a sink on the table that ran along the window. She washed a few items and used the rag to wipe down what she could. Riley felt downright domesticated to be cleaning house. She never cleaned at home. But then again, she was hardly ever home. Not sure she wanted to admit it or not, but it was nice to not have to go into work today.
No bills, no stress, no hateful comments at her driving. Riley rolled her eyes at that last thought. I drive just fine, it’s the other morons on the road, she thought with a smirk, knowing she was an aggressive driver.
It was a shock to the system and downright humbling to be thrown into the middle of nowhere to survive. She had a growing respect for those people on “Survivor”! If she didn’t have help from John, she wasn’t sure she would feel as content as she did right now. He provided a roof, food, support and brute strength if she needed it. He was also dreamy to look at and could provide a few other things if she wanted, she thought wryly. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge!
Riley jumped as John chose that moment to enter the cabin. She liked his larger than life presence when he came into the room. He seriously was one beautiful man! Caterpillar to butterfly, baby! She also liked the way he smiled at her, feeling her gut clench hotly. She understood completely the words to that dirty Nine Inch Nails song. She was feeling pretty animalistic about now, the way he was looking at her. Yikes!
“That smells divine,” he said with a grin.
“Gee, thanks,” she muttered aloud instead of what she really thought: You look divine, she admitted mentally.
“Can’t wait,” she heard him say, as she felt herself ogling the way his pants pulled against his body. He gracefully put one leg over the bench and then the other, taking his seat.
“Should be done soon. Can I get you something to drink?” Riley asked carefully. She had no idea what they drank. Water all the time? Beer? Milk? Probably milk, because yeah, it has done his body good! Riley dropped the tin cup she had just grabbed off the shelf at her thoughts.
Nothing like a little vitamin D to make you feel better! she thought with a lecherous grin and then shook her head wildly. Oh, my word, where was this coming from? She felt like the proverbial dog in heat! He walked in and it was like someone had flipped a switch on. Her body was alive and she was certain that at the first touch she would hop all over him for some relief!
So, do something about it, she heard Eve forcefully announcing herself.
Riley glanced at John and saw him frozen. He looked like a big, beautiful statue. Almost like a Greek god, but with a lumberjack aura to him. She itched to touch those big, frozen muscles while he didn’t notice and couldn’t respond.
What did you do? Zap him? She waved her hand in front of his face for confirmation. Sure enough, his eyes didn’t blink or follow her.
No, silly chit. I merely snapped my fingers to give us a second. You are blasting me with all sorts of raunchy thoughts and you need to just get it out of your system, Eve taunted inside of Riley’s head. She hadn’t appeared but her presence was felt just the same.
Don’t I know it! What is wrong with me? she wailed mentally. Her body ached with need and it was distracting to no end. I have never lusted after a guy like this!
You haven’t had one this hot fall into your lap either! Eve countered.
True. Riley had dated a few guys, but none really got under her skin like John did. The closest she ever came was dating an artist from SoHo who was more interested in himself than her.
So, have some fun with him!
What? No! Riley vehemently denied. I can’t.
Why not?
He likes me. I can’t do that, she thought, horrified at the idea of toying with someone who was genuinely nice to her. She had been annoying and needy since she got here. He had been Sir Gruntworthy! Both of them had made significant progress in the last seventy-two hours. It shocked her that was all the time that had elapsed. It felt like weeks on end!
So? what do you care? Eve asked slyly, unless you like him, too? Riley could have sworn that Eve’s words were floating around the air like tendrils of smoke looking for the tiniest crack in her shell, only to slip in and persuade her to do something she wasn’t ready to do.
He’s okay sometimes, she thought, shrugging. Honestly, he had the most
magnetic personality she had ever met. Literally! When he was annoying, she was pushed so far away mentally. But when he was laying on the charm, the attraction was tough to fight!
Well then, tell him to itch your scratch! And tell him to itch it over and over again! Eve cackled in her head. Poop or get off the pot, Girly!
Well, that is a bit crude coming from you, Riley countered bluntly, thinking how many times she had been put in place by the strange woman for her own lack of finesse.
And that is a bit much coming from the woman with the filthy mouth! Eve retaliated.
“Let’s talk about that. Can you stop with the silent treatment you keep laying on me? And as a thank you? I will…” Riley said aloud, grasping on to the moment to see if she could get Eve to let the occasional slip of the tongue slide past her.
“You will what?” John asked her, looking a bit confused. He probably thought she was insane again, talking to herself.
“I will check our food,” Riley said with an overly large smile and rushed over to the fireplace. Pulling the lid off, she continued her silent conversation with her benefactor.
Really, Eve? You poof when the going gets tough? she snapped, frustrated that she was just about to ask her to do away with the mute button Eve had placed on her head.
The tough, get rough! Hey yeah, yeah, yeah! Riley heard an old Billy Ocean song playing in her head. Eve was chanting along, out of tune, above the singer’s voice: Oh! Can I touch you? And do the things that lovers do? Oh! Wanna hold you.
Absolutely hysterical, oh magical one. Riley grabbed the pan, carefully removing it from the coals. She was glad she had the foresight to put a makeshift trivet down on the table that was free from damage. Setting the skillet down, she pulled off the lid using the corner of her skirt as a potholder. They both took a deep breath, absorbing in the scent. The food smelled delicious.
A Lifetime with You: Timeswept Soulmates Page 8
