Arthur looked disappointed when he walked in. “Nothing is ready yet?”
Beatrice shooed him away from her work table. “Your lunch is ready.”
“I was hoping for pie or cookies or cake or something.” He looked around, a little lost that there were no sweets waiting for him.
“Eat your lunch.” She shook her head at him. “I’ll have treats for you later.”
“What’s the good of having a wife that works on baking all morning if I have no cookies with my lunch?”
“If you keep eating all the sweets you want, you’re going to be as big as a house, Arthur Jameson!”
He sighed. “We’ll just have to exercise more. Do you want to go for a walk after work?”
“I’d love to!”
“Then will you bring me some sweets as soon as they’re out of the oven?” He asked sweetly, hoping she’d fall for his ploy.
She laughed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
He shrugged. “I can give you some ideas if you want.” He waggled his brows at her, letting her know exactly what he was thinking.
“I think I’ll figure it out on my own, thank you very much!” She laughed even as she felt the heat rising in her cheeks.
Arthur smiled at her. “I have a feeling I won’t like your ideas as much as I do mine.”
“Probably not.”
Chapter Eight
The rest of Beatrice’s day was spent baking. Before Arthur got home, everything was not only finished, but she’d set aside a few of the sweets for her husband and his enormous sweet tooth.
“Something smells good!” he said as he walked into the kitchen, leaning down to kiss her. “What are you feeding me?”
“I made you a shepherd’s pie. There’s fresh bread to go with it, and I made you cookies for dessert.” She’d decided to make a third, wanting to be sure it was good before anyone ate it.
“Can we start with dessert?” he asked, winking at her. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
“No. Because if you did, you’d miss out on my shepherd’s pie. And trust me, you don’t want to miss it.”
“Is it that good?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.
“I used to make it for boxed socials, and men would bid on my meal forever, each hoping to be the one to get to eat it.”
“Are you sure they weren’t bidding on the chance to have lunch with you?” he asked. If it had been him, he would have cared a great deal more about the chef than the meal she’d made.
She nodded emphatically. “Do you know how I know?”
He shook his head. “How?”
“One of them told me. He said, ‘None of us really care to eat with you, because you’re so smart, but you’re the best cook in all of Missouri, and we want your shepherd’s pie.’ I think my parents despaired of me ever marrying. They thought I’d live with them forever.”
“Did you live with them while you taught school?”
“The first semester I did, but my second semester, I boarded with a family in the school district. I preferred staying at home, but part of my salary was my room and board, and my father thought it would be good for me to get away from them for a little while.” Her father had been right.
He frowned at her. “Even though you didn’t want to.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes parents make their children do things they don’t want to do for their own good. It was a very good experience for me. I met new people and I had to stand on my own two feet a bit more than usual. I liked it when I was finished. I could have done it much easier the next time.”
“Do you ever wish you were still in Missouri teaching?” he asked.
Beatrice thought about it for a moment. “In some ways. I miss my parents…especially my mom. If we had stayed in Missouri where we belonged, I’d still have her. But being here is good for me, too. I mean, I have you.”
He smiled at that. “At least you didn’t say you would rather be in Missouri in every way.”
“Well, I was honest, which is what I think you wanted from me.” She took a bite of her dinner. “The angel came back today.”
“She did? What did she say?” Arthur snapped to attention at her words. He was very curious about this person that kept visiting her. He almost wished he could see her, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what he truly wanted.
“Yes, she did. She wanted to tell me to listen to you. She wants me to stay inside whenever I can to stay safe.” Beatrice hated admitting to him that Gabriella agreed with him and not with her, but she wouldn’t lie to him.
“She does? Did she tell you she was your guardian angel?”
She shook her head. “She told me she was an angel, and she told me to call her Gabriella. I asked if she was finished with me, and she said she’d come back if I needed her.” Beatrice had no idea if she’d ever need her again, or if Gabriella would think she needed her.
“So you don’t know if you’ll see her again or not.” He wasn’t sure if he was pleased Gabriella would leave her alone, or if he wanted her to keep helping his wife. Either way, his opinion didn’t seem to matter.
“No, I don’t. She told me that she led me to you though, because you’re the one who can make me happy.”
He grinned at that. “I like that idea. I’ll make you happy every day if only you’ll let me.”
“And if I stay in the house and don’t get into trouble?” She shook her head.
“I didn’t say that. You did.”
She sighed. “It was better today because I was busy. I think baking for Mortimer is going to help me a lot.” She hated that she needed to always be doing things. Maybe when the children started coming she would be less needy in that way.
“I’m glad. How’s your ankle?” He’d been watching her move, and she didn’t seem to be favoring it.
“It’s fine. It hasn’t bothered me all day. I’m sure it’s ready for me to return to regular activities.” She shrugged, not worrying about it at all any longer.
“I’m not sure baking as much as you did today can be considered regular activities.”
“Well, I’ve always been one to be on my feet a lot. Whether teaching or helping my mother with cooking. I even did some of the milking to help my father out. I think he always wanted boys to help with the farm, but I was the only child they had.” She frowned at him. “Do you know I know nothing about you? Where are you from?”
“I’m from New York. I lived upstate until I was eighteen, and then I spent a few months in the big city before deciding I wanted to learn to run a telegraph station.”
Beatrice nodded. “What about your family?” He had never mentioned his family at all. Of course, she’d been monopolizing the conversations with her tales of her past.
“I was raised on a dairy farm. My parents had twelve kids, eight of which were boys. I was right in the middle, and I wasn’t needed on the farm, so I moved on to make my own way in life.”
“Do you ever miss your family?”
Arthur shrugged. “Sometimes. I sure have missed my mother’s cooking over the years, but I’m not missing them nearly as much now that you’re here.”
“I think your belly missed them.” She grinned at him. “Have you always been this hungry?” She’d never met a man who was always hungry the way Arthur was, but truth be told, she hadn’t spent a lot of time with men.
“I guess I have. My mother always said I had hollow legs. She complained that she could never fill me up from the time I was a baby. And I’ve always loved sweets. She’d bake a cake at night, and it would be gone when she woke up. It was always me.”
“Oh, my! I need to keep my baked goods for the mercantile under lock and key.”
He laughed. “I think I can keep myself out of the store’s treats…as long as you make me my own.” He was sure it was a good compromise.
She shook her head, standing up to get him a plateful of cookies and a glass of milk to drink. “Happy now?”
“No.”
&nb
sp; “You’re not?” She frowned at him, wondering what the problem was.
He caught her hand and pulled her down on his lap, kissing her softly. “There. Now I’m happy. I need the cookies, but I also need my sweet bride.”
“I’m surprised you can still call me sweet with as angry as I was with you last night.” She was embarrassed by how upset she’d gotten, when she’d known all along that he was making the rules for her own good.
“I understand what happened there. You were lonely and tired of being cooped up in the house. It’s beautiful outside, and you want to feel free to wander around and do what you want to do. You want the freedom you thought you’d have in Creede. I’m sorry you can’t have it, at least not yet. I promise as soon as the women are found and whoever’s responsible is behind bars, I will allow you to do as you please.”
“I’d like that.” She kissed his cheek and got off his lap to go start washing the dishes while he ate his cookies.
“Aren’t you having any cookies?” Arthur asked. Usually she shared his sweets with him.
She shook her head. “I nibbled all day as I baked. We don’t want me to get bigger than a house, either.”
He shrugged. “I don’t think I’d mind at all. You’re beautiful how you are, but you’d be beautiful with a little extra weight as well.”
“You’re so sweet to me. What have I done in my life to deserve you?” She kept washing the dishes as they walked, hoping that she would be finished in time to go and listen to him read. “Are you going to read to me this evening? I want to work on the pillows for the parlor.”
“I would love to. I think I look forward to our reading time more than anything else all day. I was sad to miss it last night.”
She frowned. “Let’s never go to bed angry again. I feel horrible about the way I treated you.”
“I could have come to you and tried to talk it out, but I was angry as well. You’re right though. We shouldn’t go to bed angry with each other.” Arthur popped his last cookie into his mouth. “I’ll go in and find my page. Are you almost finished?”
She nodded. “I have another few things to dry, and then I’ll be in.”
Millie came to visit Beatrice on Saturday. “There are rumors that you’re making baked goods for all of Creede!”
Beatrice laughed. “I’m making baked goods for the mercantile, so anyone can buy them. I guess that means that I’m making them for all of Creede.” She wasn’t about to argue with all of the rumors about her.
“Are you making them now?”
“Yes, I am. I’m making cookies. I got word that Mortimer ran out within ten minutes of opening this morning because there was a line. I promised I’d have more to him by lunchtime.” Beatrice couldn’t believe how excited all the men were for her baked goods.
“It’s only nine. Surely between the two of us we can make that happen.”
Beatrice paused in measuring flour to hug her friends. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
“I’m glad to be here. It’s good to have someone to talk to.”
“Arthur and I had a big fight over me having to stay in all day. I want to be able to leave and not be caged. I love to feel the sunshine on my arms, but I’m not allowed to go outside at all unless he’s with me. Or your brother.”
“That’s just sad. I wish it was safer here in Creede, but I do understand the worry.” Millie slipped an apron on and picked up a spoon, starting to drop cookies onto the cookie sheet. “If I had more spare time, I’d be here with you every day.”
“I hate that you’re driving over that trail every time you come to see me. It’s scary.”
“It is.” Millie got quiet for a moment. “I sure wish you could come to church.”
“I wish I could too, but it’s just not possible. I do hope Callum understands.” Beatrice was worried he would regret marrying them because she didn’t go to church every Sunday. Oh, how she prayed there would soon be a pastor there in their town.
“Of course he understands. He was one of the first people to see you after the death of your parents, and he knows how upset you were. No one expects you to be able to just go down that trail again so soon.”
“I’m glad.” Beatrice hated the idea of upsetting Callum, because he’d been very good to her, but she just couldn’t go to his church. Not yet, anyway.
Working together, they had the cookies ready thirty minutes before Mortimer planned to pick them up. They carefully packed them into a box, and Beatrice opened the door to the telegraph office with the box of cookies. Behind her was Millie, carrying a plate of cookies just for Arthur.
Arthur was quickly making notes as a message came in, so they just set the cookies beside him and disappeared back into the house.
When they were back, Millie smiled. “So, what can I help you do now?”
“You don’t have to come and help me! We can just sit and chat as friends.”
“Idle hands and all that. I don’t like to sit around doing nothing. What are we sewing these days?”
Beatrice laughed, pulling out the curtains she was making for the parlor. “First curtains, and then I’ll start working on some knitting projects.”
“Would you believe no one ever taught me to knit? I would love to learn.”
“Well, the next time you come, we’ll work on knitting. Do you crochet?” Beatrice loved the idea of helping her friend learn to do something new.
“Yes, I’ve been crocheting for years, but knitting is so much more complicated!”
Beatrice shrugged. “I’ll have you knitting in no time.”
A few minutes later, Arthur stepped through the door. “Thank you for the surprise ladies. It was nice to find a plate of cookies beside me when I finished my task.”
“Did Mortimer come and pick up the other cookies?” Beatrice asked, getting to her feet to make him a plate. She’d reheated leftovers from the night before. He never complained about anything she cooked because she hadn’t yet made him any beans.
“Yes, he came right before I left for lunch. He said to tell you thank you, and he’d like triple the normal cookie order for Monday. He said the pies don’t sell nearly as well as the cookies, so less pies and more cookies, but keep the same number of loaves of bread.” Arthur sighed. “There, I think that’s the whole message.”
“Maybe he should have tapped it out in Morse Code to help you remember it,” Beatrice said cheekily.
He shook his head at her, washing his hands and taking his place at the table. “Are you eating with us, Millie?”
“Well, if I’m invited I am. I sure do have fun when I get to spend my days with your wife. She keeps me busy, and that’s what I like.” Millie set the pillow she was stitching down and accepted the plate Beatrice filled for her.
“Of course, you’re invited,” Beatrice said. “You spent half of your morning helping me bake cookies, and you’ll spend your afternoon helping me sew. I couldn’t begrudge you a meal.”
“I’m getting good at sewing for my supper,” Millie said with a giggle.
Arthur was happy to see the two women enjoying themselves so much. “Well, I’m just glad you’re getting to spend the day together, no matter what you’re doing.” He knew it would make his life easier, because it would make Beatrice so much happier having her friend there. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about her being upset about staying inside for another day or two.
“Me too,” Beatrice said happily. “My days are always best when I spend them with Millie.”
After Arthur was gone, they quickly washed up the few dishes and settled down to chat while they sewed. This time they settled in the parlor, where the furniture was more comfortable.
“I think these pillows are going to make your room beautiful,” Millie said. “I’m glad you chose this color, as it’s just perfect for what you’re doing.”
“I agree,” Beatrice said, looking around her. “Between the pillows and the curtains, I’ll be done in here. I already have the kitchen ready to go. Now I ju
st need to make a quilt for the bedroom.” She wanted to have the quilt done before Arthur started joining her in the big bed.
“You’re doing a great job of making it all perfect. I can’t wait until you have a little one on the way. It will be fun to sew those tiny little clothes together.”
“I love the idea of having a houseful of little ones,” Beatrice said. “I want all of them to look just like Arthur.”
“Now to my way of thinking, a baby will look awfully funny with a beard.” Millie grinned.
Beatrice laughed softly. “Yes, probably. Hopefully they’ll look just like Arthur without the beard.”
“You’re falling in love with him, aren’t you?”
Beatrice hadn’t even thought it was possible to fall in love in less than two weeks, but she nodded. “He’s very kind to me, and he’s always looking out for my interests first. He doesn’t mind that I’m making money with my baking, and he reads to me at night. I can’t imagine a man who would be better for me.” She realized it was just as Gabriella had said. Arthur was definitely the man for her.
“I’m so glad it’s working out for you. Callum came home after marrying you and told me he hoped he’d not done you a disservice. He knew it would be hard to marry a stranger and immediately move in with him, but he also knew what a good man Arthur was. He hoped it would all work out for the best. We pray for the two of you every day.”
“Thank you!” Beatrice was touched by her friend’s words. “We’re going to be just fine together. I don’t think he loves me, but at least he cares for me. I can tell with everything he does. He’s good to me.”
“Are you going to be handing out sweets on Monday morning again? Because I talked to Callum, and he said that I could join you if I wanted to.”
Beatrice shook her head sadly. “After the shooting last week, he thinks that I need to stay inside instead of passing out sweet. I wish I could still do it, but I know that Arthur only has my best interests in mind. Instead, we’ll go on a picnic tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll do a lot of baking in the morning to prepare sweets for the store on Monday.”
“When you were on your way here, I bet you never thought you’d be starting a business with your baking, did you?”
Beatrice the Bride (Cowboys and Angels Book 1) Page 9