Mail Order Meals

by Kirsten Osbourne

  “Gertrude Miller, but friends and family, of which I hope you’ll soon be a member, call me Trudie.”

  “It’s nice to meet you Trudie. I’m Althea Goldman. My husband is the pastor at the church. I’m sure we’ll see you because Douglas is there every week. I do think he only comes because he wants to share in the potluck we have after our Sunday service, but my husband is pleased that he makes the journey anyway.”

  “He did seem rather hungry in his letter,” Trudie said. “I was a cook back in Massachusetts, so I hope to be able to cook fast enough to keep up with his rather alarming hunger.”

  Mrs. Goldman laughed merrily. “I believe you’ll do just fine with the man.” She turned and walked into the mercantile. “Well, speak of the devil himself!” She nodded to a man and whispered to Trudie, “That’s Mr. Charleston.”

  “Oh, wonderful.” Trudie had never stood on ceremony, which wasn’t surprising for a member of the demon horde, so she marched right up to the man. “I’m your mail-order bride, or mail-order meals, as the case may be.” She hadn’t planned on speaking to him so flippantly as soon as she met him, but it did seem appropriate.

  “Nice to meet you, Meals,” he said, his eyes sweeping up and down her. “You sure you know how to cook? I said I didn’t need a young or pretty wife. You’re both.” He looked very skeptical of her being able to meet his specifications.

  “I was a cook in a diner in Massachusetts, and I assure you, I never had one complaint about the food I served.” She felt like she was being weighed and measured, and she didn’t like the feeling much. Why didn’t he just sweep her into his arms and kiss her or something?

  “That’s good.” He shrugged, looking over at Mrs. Goldman. “Your husband up for a wedding?”

  Mrs. Goldman nodded as if young women went to her every day, searching for the fiancé they had yet to meet. “He’ll be ready as soon as I tell him there’s a wedding to perform.”

  “Sounds good.” He looked back at Trudie. “Store’s about to close. We’ll be there in half an hour. I need my little bride here to show me what she needs me to buy so she can make the meals I need.” He narrowed his eyes at Trudie. “What’s your name, anyway?”

  “I thought you’d just call me ‘Meals’,” Trudie said, wrinkling her nose at him.

  “Well, I could, but I probably want to know your real name at some point.” He obviously wasn’t bothered by the idea of calling his future wife by that ridiculous nickname.

  “I’m Gertrude Miller, but my friends call me Trudie.”

  “All right, Meals.”

  Trudie shook her head and walked past the man as she chose ingredients for the meals she planned to make. He was just sarcastic enough that she liked him. He’d make a good husband. She was sure of it.

  Chapter 2

  Doug leaned against the counter of the mercantile, watching as his spunky little bride ran around purchasing everything she thought they would need. She stopped once in the middle of her buying frenzy. “Do you have good pots and pans at home? I know you ruined several with bacon, though a grown man should certainly be able to fry up a couple strips of bacon.”

  He shrugged, not at all uncomfortable with her question. “I do have good pots and pans at home. Every time I ruin something, I buy another one. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because you might consider it wasteful to keep ruining pots and pans?”

  “Nah. I’m helping the local economy, right, Hank?” he asked the owner of the mercantile.

  “Oh, yes. You’ve helped my income a great deal. You buy more food than anyone else, and more pots than six families would need. No need to worry about my store going under.”

  Trudie shook her head and rushed away, again choosing different ingredients and placing them on the counter. She called out, “You picky?” as she added a jar of pickles.

  “If it is edible, I’ll eat it. I eat food that’s not edible all the time.”

  Trudie sighed loudly, but she kept shopping. “What about curtains? And a tablecloth? Do I need to sew for this house of yours?”

  Doug grinned at the question. “Depends on how important tablecloths and curtains are to you, I guess.” He’d never even thought of caring about curtains. Why would he? The sunshine lit the house during the day.

  “Does that mean you don’t have those silly things in your home?” she asked, looking at the fabric display.

  “Yup.” He was surprised to find himself liking this woman. He’d expected an older woman with buck teeth, but instead he’d gotten himself a beautiful little woman. And she said she could cook. He only hoped she was right.

  When she had finished all the shopping she had to do, she had a small mountain in front of her on the counter. “He’s paying,” she said, jerking a thumb toward Doug.

  He shook his head, walking to the counter and having his friend charge the amount. “I’ll pay you when we come to church Sunday. I didn’t think to bring that much into town with me today, and the bank is already closed.” Who knew having a wife could be so expensive? He tried not to care. She meant food.

  “That’s no problem,” Hank replied, obviously trying to keep the grin from his face. “I hope you brought your wagon.”

  Doug nodded. “I did. I was planning to try and cook again.”

  Hank shook his head. “I’m glad we won’t need to be on constant alert for a fire at the ranch any longer.”

  Trudie gave Doug a scathing look. “You hungry?”

  “I’m always hungry.”

  “I’m not cooking for you unless you stop to get my trunk on the way out of town.” Trudie wasn’t about to leave everything she’d worked on since childhood to take into marriage with her.

  “No problem there. Do you keep aprons in there? I hear women like to wear aprons when they cook.”

  Trudie sighed. “Yes, I do have aprons in my trunk. As well as other things that are dear to me.” Hopefully the man would eventually think about something other than his stomach.

  Doug loaded his arms with the items he’d purchased and walked toward the door. “Am I going to be dear to you?”

  “Depends on how demanding you are about your food. I’m a good cook, and I promise to feed you at regular intervals. As long as you don’t annoy me.”

  He stopped walking and stared at her for a moment. “You’ll feed me anyway. That’s what wives do.” He knew there was no way he could avoid annoying her. He’d been told his entire life that he was annoying. Surely, he wouldn’t be able to hide it from her.

  “We’ll see.”

  He put all of their purchases in the wagon parked right in front of the store. “There, now let’s go get hitched.”

  “You make it sound like I’m the other half of a team of oxen.” Trudie wasn’t sure what to make of Douglas now that they’d met. He seemed a little odder than she’d expected from his letter. His letter had been filled with humor, but now that she was with him, that humor seemed over the top.

  “We’ll work together. I bet eventually we’ll even be good at it.” He held his arm out to her, and she took it, wondering if he was going to annoy her every day for the rest of her life.

  “Mrs. Goldman says you’re a regular church-goer, but she suspects it’s because of the potluck they have after church every week.” Trudie wanted to know where he stood with God, and that seemed a good way to find out.

  “Figured that out, did she?” Doug grinned. This little lady amused him more than he’d expected. “I go to church to worship God, but I happen to really love the food they serve as well. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

  “Not if you really are going for the right reasons, and not so you can get free food every week.” Surely he wasn’t so hungry that he would go to church just for a good meal.

  “Free? I always slip money to whoever makes the best dish to pay for my share of the food.”

  Trudie stopped walking and frowned at him. “Do you really?”

  He nodded. “It inspires all the ladies in tow
n to do their best cooking.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  “Oh, you’ll be glad of it if you’re the one with the best cooking. You could spend the money on anything you wanted.”

  “I’m not terribly worried about that,” Trudie said. “I had a job, and I still have money from it. I’m not going to be dependent on your good will for the things I want and need.” If she wanted a new dress, then she wouldn’t go to him for money. Instead she’d use her own money and buy it if she wanted to.

  “Glad to hear it. I like independent women. They have the most sass.” Doug didn’t have to look at her to see she was shocked by his statement.

  “And you think sass is a good thing in a woman?” Her brothers had always told her that her sass would keep her from ever finding a man.

  “I never really thought about it, but as I was picturing the woman who would come and be my mail-order meals, I thought she’d be in her forties, unable to tie her apron strings, and plain looking. You’re anything but. I guess I’m glad that I got sassy you instead of the meek woman I expected.” He was mostly glad anyway. He was still a little worried that she’d be more work than he’d bargained for, but he had no right to complain.

  “Well, isn’t that nice.” They’d reached the parsonage, and she reached out to knock, but he caught her hand. “What?”

  “I don’t want to kiss you for the first time with the pastor and Mrs. Goldman watching. How about we try a kiss now?” He hadn’t expected to even want to kiss his bride, but little miss sassy pants made him want a lot more than he’d expected to want.

  She sighed, looking at him. “I’ve never even kissed a man, Mr. Charleston. We can’t wait another five minutes so I can say I was never kissed before my wedding?”

  “You can still say you weren’t kissed until your wedding day.” He didn’t wait for her to argue with him more, but he instead lowered his head to hers and kissed her softly. He didn’t try to deepen the kiss, but he just enjoyed the feel of her against him. Now, he suddenly didn’t feel the need to have a talk with her about not doing anything that could bring children into their lives. Instead, he was anxious for the wedding night. Whether he was ready for children or not, he was definitely ready for a real marriage.

  When he raised his head, he saw a dazed look in her eyes, and he couldn’t help but grin. He didn’t know how it had happened, but that mail order bride agency had managed to send a girl who could stand up to him, and who he wanted in his life. “We should probably get married,” he said, startling her out of her reverie.

  She blinked. “Yes, of course.” She turned and knocked on the door, trying to calm her racing heart. The hungry man beside her certainly was more interesting than she thought he’d be.

  Mrs. Goldman opened the door and smiled at Trudie. “Are you sure you still want to marry this man?” she asked.

  Trudie nodded. “Well, not really sure, but I came here to get married and to cook, so I don’t think there’s much of a choice.”

  “Well, there are plenty of unmarried men in the area. Would you like to stay with us for a few days and meet them all? Then you can make an educated choice.”

  Trudie looked at Doug and smiled. “I think that could be fun.”

  Doug shook his head. “No way, no how. I’m marrying her right now before she meets all the other unmarried men in town. There’s no need for her to even think about those men. She came here to marry me.” And he was keeping her no matter what that took.

  Mrs. Goldman laughed. “I thought you’d react that way.” She opened the door wide to let the young couple inside, calling out for her husband. “We have a wedding!”

  Pastor Goldman was not what Trudie expected at all. While his wife was rather tall and large in every other way, the good pastor was a small man. Not much taller than Trudie herself, and he was slender. The two of them looked odd together.

  He walked into the room and smiled at Doug, reaching out to shake his hand. “Your meals finally got here, did she?”

  “She did. And she’s sassy. I like that in a woman.”

  Pastor Goldman laughed. “I’m glad you’re pleased. Now, shall we proceed?”

  The wedding was over minutes later, and Doug was told to kiss his wife. He’d been waiting for those words. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, trying to brand her as his own. The other men in town had better not even look at her, because she was his from that day forward.

  As they left the parsonage, Doug frowned. “Are you going to have time to make supper tonight?”

  Trudie wanted to roll her eyes, but it seemed a rather juvenile response. “I’ll have time if you’re okay with something simple. I could make crepes or pancakes or even eggs and bacon.”

  “I’ll have pancakes.” He rubbed his stomach in anticipation. “Make about double what you think I’d eat,” he said.

  “As long as you stop and get my trunk first,” Trudie responded. There was something about the man that made her want to kiss him and kick him all at once. She wasn’t certain what the appropriate response was, so she did neither.

  At the train station, her trunk was in the middle of the platform, and the ticket taker was eating at his post. “Thank you for watching my trunk for me,” she said. She tried very hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  The man shrugged. “I didn’t really pay any attention to it. I was busy.”

  Trudie watched as her new husband hefted the trunk onto one shoulder and then put it in the back of the wagon. “What do you have in this thing? Rocks?”

  “Books, and many things I have collected over the years.” Trudie walked around and waited for him to help her into the wagon, and she was pleased when he actually did. The man seemed to have the manners of a mule, so it was good to have him offer her basic courtesy.

  She sat in the wagon, wondering why she didn’t feel different. She was married now, and her life would never again be the same. It should have made her feel entirely different, but instead, she just felt like herself.

  As he drove, he pointed out different things along the way. “How far is it?” she asked when they were only about five minutes out of town.

  “Only another ten minutes or so. I’m not far out, but you don’t have to be far from a city to have enough space to ranch in an area like this.”

  “Sounds good.” And it did to Trudie. She could probably walk or ride into town without it causing problems. “Do you mind if I go into town alone for supplies if I need to?”

  He shrugged. “It’d be easier if you just had me take you when you need them. How would you get them back without the wagon?”

  “I know how to hitch up a wagon and drive it,” she said softly. Of course, she knew how. She was a farm girl at heart. “I grew up on a farm, and I can ride, milk a cow, collect eggs, and cook you a meal that will make you wonder how you ever lived without me.”

  He looked over at her, taking his eyes from the road for a moment. “You’re that confident of your cooking?”

  “For the past five years, I have cooked for a diner in Beckham, Massachusetts. I have only been out of school for three years, but the two years previous, they had me working evenings and weekends. There was never one complaint about the cooking.”

  “What do you know how to make?” he asked. His mouth was already watering as he thought of all the groceries she’d piled onto the counter. He was going to be eating like a king.

  “I have a book of recipes from my family, and I have many other things memorized. I can follow any recipe.”

  “Fried chicken? Pot roast? Chicken and dumplings? What about cakes and pies?”

  Trudie shook her head. “I know you’ve been eating at least once per week. How can you act like you’re starving?” She could tell that he was a man who wouldn’t care if she never cleaned. He’d only care if she didn’t cook for him.

  “It’s super easy. I went into town today for crackers. Now, I like crackers, but not for every single meal. Honestly, I don’t ca
re what you cook as long as it doesn’t get burned.” He pulled the wagon onto a dirt road. “This is my property for as far as the eye can see in every direction. If you hurry, you can put a kitchen garden in, and you’ll be able to can in the fall.”

  “Is it going to be a full-time job just keeping you fed, Douglas?”

  “Oh, call me Doug. And yes, it probably will be a full-time job. I love to eat.” He stopped the wagon in front of a two-story white house with a beautiful wrap around porch on the front. She couldn’t wait to sit on that porch and rock, but she didn’t see a rocker. She’d have to talk to him about that as soon as she got a chance. “I’ll want to eat at six, noon, and six. And if you feel like it, you could always send me with extra food for my saddle bags. I promise, I will not leave it to go bad.”

  “I can easily cook those meals for you, and I will try to start a kitchen garden. As long as you don’t need fresh bread every single day, it should be easily manageable.” Day old bread was just fine in her opinion, but she didn’t know if he would care if it wasn’t as fresh as bread baked that day.

  “On the days you make bread, you’ll make enough for the next day as well, right?” he asked, looking concerned.

  “Yes, of course. You’re not going to go hungry as long as there is food for me to cook.” She wasn’t sure how often she’d have to reassure him about that, but she had a feeling it would take as much of her time as cooking for him did.

  He helped her down from the wagon. “I’ll bring everything inside while you look around. And then, while you cook, I’ll gather eggs and milk the cow.” He rubbed his stomach. “I can already taste it!”

  “You don’t even know what I’m making!” she protested.

  He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “As long as it’s food, I’ll be a very happy man.”

  She shook her head and went into the house. The front door opened into a main room, which had a table and chairs. Off to the left, she saw a small parlor with a sofa and some overstuffed chairs. She walked straight ahead and found the kitchen. For a man who couldn’t cook anything, his kitchen was a cook’s dream. There was a water pump, right there in the kitchen, and he had a nice stove. In fact, it seemed to be the same kind she’d used at the restaurant.