Mail Order Meals

by Kirsten Osbourne

  There was even a nice big ice box. Just perfect for keeping leftovers—if she ever had any—and meats. She couldn’t wait to start cooking.

  Rolling up her sleeves, she wished she had her trunk, so she could put an apron on, but she was ready to change anyway. She was making herself a new dress, and it was almost done. Tomorrow she’d have to make bread and start on the kitchen garden. Then the next day would be laundry.

  “I put your trunk in my bedroom,” he said when he brought her the eggs. “Up the stairs to your right.”

  “Do you not have a spare room for me to sleep in for the next couple of weeks?” she asked, frowning at him. “You only want me here for making meals, remember?”

  Doug caught her hand and pulled her to him. “I remember that I was stupid. I think I need a real wife. One who will take care of all of my comforts and not just my food.”

  “Well, you’ll have to stop calling me Meals then.”

  “I might need to do that.” He kissed her quickly. “I’m going to go milk the cow. Whatever you’re making, hurry!”

  Trudie couldn’t believe the man. He acted like her teenage brothers, not like a man who was used to fending for himself when it came to meals.

  She dug through the box of groceries and found what she needed, quickly heating up the frying pan. Tonight, she would make a simple meal of pancakes and bacon, and he’d like it. Whether he liked it or not, he needed to at least pretend he did. Never in her life had she had a man talk quite so much about food to her. He must be an exceptionally hungry man.

  She mixed up the pancake batter while the bacon fried, and when he came back in with milk, he sighed contentedly. “I smell bacon in my kitchen. Bacon!”

  “Yes, you do. Now go and wash your hands, and I’ll have supper ready in a few minutes.”

  “I want to watch you cook,” he said softly.

  She shook her head adamantly. “No, you can go do something constructive while I see to your meal.” From what she could see he’d kept a relatively clean house, and she was pleased. Yes, there would be a big spring cleaning in her future, but she wouldn’t have to spend a lot of time getting rid of the dust first.

  “Fine. But I’m going to watch you cook. Soon.”

  How the man had managed to make watching her cook sound like something sordid, she wasn’t sure, but he had. He was truly a man who loved food. There was no doubt about that in her mind.

  Chapter 3

  Doug hadn’t eaten two bites of his supper before he turned to Trudie. “Will you marry me and cook for me all of my days?” His hand was over his heart, and he looked extremely earnest.

  “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about missing out on a marriage proposal by being a mail order bride, do I? I’ll probably get one three meals a day for the rest of my life.”

  “You definitely will. These pancakes are fluffier than any I’ve ever eaten. How did you make them so perfect?”

  “I could show you, but I’m not sure it would do a lot of good,” she said with a smile.

  “Probably not,” he said through his fourth bite of pancakes. He picked up his bacon and studied it. “There’s not one black spot. How do you do it?”

  “I’m careful with the temperature and how long I leave the bacon on the stove. It’s really not that hard not to burn things.”

  “I used to think that,” he said. “I either undercook everything or burn it to a crisp. There’s no in-between in my world.” He popped the bacon into his mouth and moaned aloud. “This food is all I need for the rest of my life. Will you make this for every meal?”

  She took a sip of her milk, studying him over the top. “Do you have a spot cleared for the kitchen garden?” He was being ridiculous, and she wasn’t going to discuss the pancakes any longer. The praise was nice, but his praise was so lavish, she knew it couldn’t be true.

  He shook his head. “I’ll plow a spot in the morning before I head out on the range. My foreman can tell the men what to do.”

  “How many men do you have working for you?” Trudie asked.

  “A dozen or so. My foreman hires them and manages them. He and I meet once a week, and we discuss how things need to be. I have a bunk house for them across the ranch from here.”

  “That makes sense,” she said. “Will I be meeting these men?”

  He shook his head adamantly. “Never. If you were old and ugly like I’d expected, I’d have let you meet them all, but you’re not, so you’ll have to be sequestered away in my home where no one can see you.”

  Trudie didn’t bother to respond to that. The man was insane. She wasn’t sure Elizabeth had done a good thing by having her marry him, and she would soon write her sister a letter and tell her just that.

  He sipped at his milk, watching her for a moment. “You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

  She wanted to groan aloud. “I barely know you. How can you expect me to sleep with you? It’s simply not the way things should go between us.”

  “Well, I still want to sleep with you. I won’t make love with you for a week, but you have to sleep with me every night, and I’ll be touching you some.” He hoped she wouldn’t notice if he started making love with her, but she was pretty bright. It might not work the way he wanted it to.

  “You may touch me above the neck,” she said magnanimously. “There’s no need for you to touch anywhere else if we’re not making love yet.”

  Doug frowned at her. “How about if I touch you only above the waist, and only on top of your nightgown? Since I want to make love tonight, and you don’t, I think we should compromise.”

  Trudie was a bit disbelieving about the first supper conversation she was having with her husband. Her mother would be mortified. “Tonight, only above the neck. We’ll negotiate for where you can touch tomorrow night when the time comes.”

  “So, we’re going to have to discuss my marital rights at every supper for a week? You choose to have odd meal-time conversations, Trudie.”

  She was surprised he remembered her name and didn’t call her Meals. “I guess I do.”

  She had finished eating, so she stood up and cleared everything but his plate from the table. She’d made as many pancakes as would have fed three of her teenage brothers, and they were gone.

  Emptying the pot of boiling water into the sink, she pumped in just a bit of cold so it was cool enough she could put her hands in it, and she made quick work of the dishes. He brought her his plate and milk glass and then leaned against the counter, watching her work. “I think I’m going to like being married.”

  “I’m glad,” she said, wondering what on earth she’d gotten herself into. “Are you all right with bacon and eggs for breakfast? I promise to not cook that every day, but it’ll be the easiest in the morning.” She’d not slept a great deal on the train, and she was exhausted. As soon as he was gone in the morning, she was going to heat water for a bath. She needed it more than she needed sleep, but she couldn’t trust him not to watch her bathe if he was in the house.

  “Bacon and eggs are fine. And don’t worry if you drop a shell in. I’m used to crunchy eggs.”

  Trudie wrinkled her nose. “I think I’ll do my best to avoid eggshells in the meal.”

  “Oh, good. I was hoping you would. I mean, I can eat them that way, but I prefer them without the crunch.” He grinned at her. It was fun to tease his new wife. He’d have to do it more often.

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe your mother let you out of her sight!”

  “I never had a mother. I was raised in an orphanage in Orlan, New York.” He shrugged. “Now the orphanage matron told me that I would do well to survive a week without a keeper.”

  “She was right, you know.” Trudie wasn’t sure how to react to the fact that he hadn’t had a mother. She had been raised in poverty, but she had always had parents who loved her. And siblings. More siblings than anyone should have to admit to having.

  “Probably.” He watched as she wiped the dishes dry and then put them bac
k in the cabinets where she’d found them. “You’re going to be a good wife, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to do my very best.” She smiled at him. “Just give me a little time to settle in.”

  “I’ll try.” Doug could already tell that it wasn’t going to be easy. The woman absolutely captivated him. And she could cook. There was nothing he’d needed more in his life than a woman who could cook. “I’ll step outside for a few minutes while you get ready for bed.”

  Trudie looked out the window and realized the sun had set. She was probably more tired than he was, and she could tell he was a hard worker. Sleep sounded wonderful.

  “Sounds good,” she said. “I’ll meet you up there.” She hurried up the stairs and grabbed her carpet bag, where she’d packed a nightgown. She did a quick bath from the bowl of water in his room, and then she climbed under the sheets, pulling the covers up to her neck. She was thankful for the time he’d given her, but wasn’t at all certain how much longer he’d wait to join her.

  By the time Doug felt liked she’d had enough time to settle herself into bed, he was ready to scream. He didn’t want to give her time, but he figured it was the gentlemanly thing to do. That was the thing about the orphanage where he was raised. The matron had made sure that manners were pounded into every child, so they could easily fit into life outside the orphanage. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d been paraded out for people who wanted to adopt, but they never chose him.

  When Doug arrived in his bedroom, he looked over at his lovely wife, and he realized she was already asleep. She was drooling slightly, and he had a feeling she wouldn’t have allowed that to happen if she’d still been awake.

  He quickly undressed and climbed into bed with her, kissing her on the forehead. His amorous attentions would need to wait until she’d rested up from her long journey.

  TRUDIE WOKE EARLY THE following morning, feeling as if there was a heavy weight on top of her. She hid a yawn as her hands went to the weight and she tried to push it off, but it wouldn’t budge.

  She looked over at her new husband, and he was propped up on his elbow, his other arm around her. “You going somewhere?” Doug asked.

  “I thought I’d take care of necessary business,” she said, not wanting to mention the outhouse. Surely, he would understand though. The man was anything but dense.

  “And then make my breakfast?” He was in bed later than usual, but he was torn between spending time making love with his wife or letting her get up so she could cook while he did the morning chores.

  “Yes, I’ll make your breakfast.”

  “I’ll let you up after one kiss,” he said, grinning at her.

  Trudie nodded, rolling toward him, and feeling the arm that had been over her chest slide down to her waist. She gave him a peck on the lips and then quickly rolled away. She hurried down the stairs and out to the outhouse, not feeling like she had time to change clothes. She needed to talk to the man about the modern miracle of a water closet. Elizabeth had one, and it was a joy to use when Trudie stayed with Elizabeth and Bernard.

  After taking care of business, Trudie went into the house and straight to the kitchen. Normally she would have grabbed a robe before she left the bedroom, but there hadn’t been time that morning, and she wasn’t about to worry about being inappropriately dressed for her new husband.

  She started a fire in the stove and put the frying pan on it, waiting for it to heat. While she did that, she broke the eggs and stirred in a little milk from the ice box. Then she carefully cut some strips of bacon and put them in the frying pan, planning to use the grease from the pan to fry the eggs.

  When Doug walked into the house fifteen minutes later, he moaned. “I cannot believe how good you make my kitchen smell. I was starting to feel like there was something wrong with it that all the food came out disgusting.”

  “That was the chef, and not the kitchen,” Trudie said, not bothering to look up from the eggs she was stirring to a perfect fluffiness. She wasn’t about to stroke his ego by telling him it was the kitchen when it obviously wasn’t.

  He grabbed his coffee cup from the table where she’d already set it, and poured himself a cup of coffee. He took a sip and smiled. “You even make coffee taste wonderful.”

  She shrugged. “It’s pretty hard to mess up coffee.”

  “Maybe for you.”

  She shook her head, putting three fourths of the eggs on his plate, and a small amount on her own. Then she added bacon and carried the plates to the table. She noticed he’d filled her coffee cup. “Thank you for pouring my coffee.” She hadn’t expected him to do things like that. Her father never had.

  He nodded. “It’s the least I can do. The eggs look great.”

  She smiled, shaking her head. “Would you rather have pot roast for supper tonight or fried chicken? Or I could make pork chops?” She’d purchased enough that she could cook just about anything he wanted.

  “Whatever sounds good to you. I seriously do not care as long as I’m not trying to cook myself and the food is edible when it’s done.”

  Trudie shrugged. “All right. I can do that.” She was in a hurry for him to go, because she couldn’t wait for that bath, but he seemed to be taking his time with breakfast. How long would it take him to eat? He closed his eyes with every bite he chewed as if he wanted to savor the fact that he had good food in his mouth.

  She already had a big pot of water heating on the stove, but she knew he’d think it was for the morning dishes. “I’ll make some bread this morning as well,” she told him.

  “Sounds wonderful. I’ll be here for lunch. Make something delicious.” He finally got to his feet, kissed her, and walked out the door, only pausing to get his cowboy hat and put it on. He was ready to start his day, but first, he had to plow a small area near the house for her kitchen garden. He couldn’t wait to eat fresh vegetables from it.

  His pretty little wife was so much more than he’d ever expected to find. He really hadn’t cared about having a real wife until he’d seen her and then a sham of a marriage like he’d been planning went right out the window.

  As he plowed, he thought about how much he wanted to get to know her. Yes, he wanted her to cook for him, there was no denying that. He could eat his weight in her food on a daily basis. But he wanted so much more. He didn’t know anything about her except that she’d been raised on a farm and had been cooking in a diner in Massachusetts. He needed to know everything.

  When he’d finished plowing a small plot for her, certain she’d want more the next day, but he knew it was enough for one day, he went into the house to wash some of the dirt off him before going to work on the ranch.

  He walked into the kitchen and heard a gasp. He looked over, and there was his beautiful bride completely naked in his bathtub. “Don’t mind me,” he said, happy to make her uncomfortable. He wasn’t in a hurry to get out onto the ranch now. No, he’d stick around until she got out of that tub. Not that the water hid anything from his view.

  After washing his hands, he sat down at the table and watched her soaking in the bath. He didn’t even mind when she glared at him. “Please, just get to work so I can get out and start your lunch.”

  “You know, my stomach is content for now, but there are other kinds of hunger.” He could see how the water dripped off the tips of her breasts. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he was certain she wouldn’t appreciate that.

  “Just go work.”

  When he shook his head, she sat for a moment watching him and thinking about what she could do to shock him. Instead of sinking further into the water, she stood up, letting the water wash over her. She was horribly embarrassed, but with so many demon horde members in her family, she knew how to hide it. The demon horde hadn’t just played tricks on others. They had tricked each other as much as they could. “Would you hand me that towel?” she asked.

  Doug’s jaw dropped as he stared at her, standing as naked as the day she was born in front of him. “Huh?�
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  “The towel from the table behind you,” she said, keeping her voice perfectly calm.

  He grabbed the towel and handed it to her, seemingly unable to speak.

  She wrapped it around her and smiled. “I believe I’ll go get dressed now. The show’s over, so you might as well go to work.” She was careful not to hurry as she walked toward the stairs, but as soon as she was out of sight, she ran up them as quickly as she could.

  Back in the kitchen, Doug sat for a moment in silence, but then he grinned. She’d gotten the best of him. There was no way he was going to let her make a habit of that.

  When Trudie got downstairs a short while later, he was nowhere in sight, and she was glad he’d finally gone off to work. She needed to make bread and get lunch started. A stew seemed fitting for lunch, and she could warm it the next day for lunch as well. And pot roast for supper. She’d thought about frying chicken, but pot roast sounded better. She frequently changed what she was planning to cook because something else sounded better anyway.

  After mixing the bread, she left it in a bowl with a towel over it to let it rise. She’d made bread more times than she could count, and there was no need to even consult a recipe.

  Once that was finished, she started the stew, and once it was on the stove over a medium heat, she punched down the bread and patted it into three loaves. With any other man a loaf would have been enough for two days, but she was starting to get a handle on Doug’s need for constant food.

  While the stew cooked and the bread went through its second rising, she went upstairs and grabbed the seeds she’d brought with her from Massachusetts, and went outside. Her garden would be the best garden in all of Colorado.

  She planted a row of peas, another of carrots, and one of potatoes before rushing back inside to finish lunch. The bread was ready and she popped it in the oven as she thickened the stew.