by Rita Hestand
"Happiness. Your Pa and I have always been happy together. That's why I married him. He was so sweet to me, and he made me laugh. When you love a man truly, nothing can beat that, not even money."
"Was it because Pa drinks?"
"Baby, he didn't always drink. He started in when we moved to St. Louis and he gave up the sea. He missed it so. I never told him, but I enjoyed him being home with me more, but I knew he longed to work on the big ships. The sea gets in a man's blood. I wanted that money to last us. It wasn't that much when you stretch it over the years, honey."
Even though her father drank, he was a sweet drunk. He never quarreled with anyone and everyone liked him all over town. Only everyone knew what a drunk he was and how Trudy was missing out on life for herself.
Trudy didn't mind. She made a promise to her dead mother that she'd see after her father, and she kept that promise. It was important to her. For her father had made her mother a happy woman. Even though her father and mother ended up in poverty, they were never sorry for marrying each other. Not many could say that.
Now, Trudy knew it was time to find a way to make a better life for herself. She'd always wanted to be a cook, like her Aunt Betty. She loved cooking, baking, finding new recipes. She often ask the cooks at the Mayor's house for new recipes and they shared them, wondering what a little girl would do with them. Trouble was after her Aunt Betty left there was little fancy cooking at all, food was scarce. When the Mayor's cook found out how poor Trudy and her Pa were, she sent her home with food, like extra potatoes, and when the cook's husband went hunting, he always managed to have some extra for Trudy too. Like her mother, she never complained about the hard work though. Her mother told her long ago 'it builds character'. Still the knowledge of cooking gave her ideas on how to stretch the food they did have.
She sighed now, all those days were gone, and she kept them tucked tightly in her memory. She had a lot of good memories. Her folks saw to that. The only thing she didn't have was a beau of her own. She wasn't ashamed of being poor, she never had been. She did an honest day's work, there was no shame for that.
But for the life of her, she didn't know why she hadn't spoken up at the church. She had to admit it, but she was as guilty as her boss.
Somehow, she'd pray that this would all come right.
She appreciated the chance to cook here, though. Her only problem was trying to get through the days without too much embarrassment.
She looked around the room, "Oh Pa, how could I marry such a rich man? And how can I hold my head up here? I got myself in a mess and don't know how to get out of."
"Never lose your sense of humor." A voice in her head told her. She knew it was her Pa speaking. He'd said it so many times to her.
"Thanks Pa, I needed that." She murmured as her eyes closed and she went to sleep.
When someone nudged her sometime later, she jumped up and found herself very close to her new husband. "Oh, you startled me."
"Sorry, you were sleeping soundly. Feel any better?"
"Yes, I'm fine, thanks."
"Dinner is ready, the boys are eating with us tonight, I wanted you to meet them all." He told her with a smile.
She nodded and got up. But when he left, she realized all she had to wear was her cotton dress, it was a dark blue and not very pretty, but they might as well get used to it, she had few clothes. Two dresses. A riding outfit, a cotton dress, and the beautiful dress she came here in. Maybe after she got her first pay, she could buy some clothes for herself, at least enough to not embarrass herself around all these men.
She combed her hair the best she could putting a ribbon around it to hold it back. Hair and cooking didn't go together, her Aunt Betty had told her many times. She put the cotton dress on. It was not a beautiful dress, it fit fine, but it looked like something someone would wear to a funeral. In fact, she had worn it to her father's funeral. Scrubbing floors for a living didn't provide much extra after paying the rent.
"Here goes nothing, Pa." she murmured as she opened her door and went to the kitchen, her head held high. It was huge and had one long table where all the men could eat with them.
Some of the men began to gather now, but she went outside to see if she could help serve it.
"No, you go sit at the table, I'll serve it all, tonight me and George that is."
"George?" she asked.
"Yes ma'am," and old wrangler came around the corner of the house and stopped suddenly to stare at her. "My God, you weren't kidding, she's beautiful." George shook his head in wonder.
"Yes, she is," Lance agreed.
"I'm Trudy," she stuck out her hand ignoring the compliment.
"Just call me George, ma'am."
"I'm pleased to meet you," she smiled at him.
"Go on in and sit down, we'll be there in a second." Lance told her.
She excused herself and went inside. Already there were a few men at the table, and she went around to each of them introducing herself. All of them stood up and shook her hand and smiled at her.
"Please be seated." She told them as she found a chair to sit in.
A couple of the men helped her scoot her chair in and seemed eager to please her.
She blushed.
Lance and George started bringing the food in on big platters and when they'd put the tea on the table, they all sat down. When he saw Trudy was sitting in the middle of the table, he went to sit beside her instead of taking his regular place at the head of the table. George sat opposite them.
"Will you say the blessing?" Lance asked.
Trudy stared then cleared her throat, "Lord bless this food for our bodies and nourishment. And thank you for its abundance and all these wonderful people gathered to eat with us. Amen."
The boys smiled, she didn't recite anything long and they were happy about that as they all seemed hungry.
"Boys," Lance looked around the table at the men who were openly admiring her beauty. "Want you to know that we were married today at the church and from now on she'll be doing the cooking for you and me."
"S-she'll be doing the cooking?" One of the younger men asked.
"Yes, Trudy is a fantastic cook and she wants to do it."
"We thought you hired someone for that, boss?" one of the older boys replied.
"Yes, well, I won't be needing one, now. It seems my new wife is eager to pitch in and help where she can."
They all nodded and smiled again.
When the meal was over, she got up to wash the dishes, but he pulled her aside, "Rusty will take care of the dishes tonight. Let's go sit on the porch a while."
"Oh, alright." She blushed.
She thought everyone would join them, but only George and Chico joined them for a bit.
"I guess Texas is a far cry from Boston." George asked her.
"Yes, I guess it is." She told him.
"Got family back there?"
"Uh… no my mother died some time ago, and my father died last week."
"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am." George told her.
"It's alright, I like to think he's watching over me."
"I'm sure he is," George smiled. "You have a bit of an Irish brogue."
"Yes, I'm Irish." She admitted. She felt a tear rise, but she never let it fall.
"You have a very pleasant voice." George told her.
"I try not to sound too Irish?"
"Why is that?" Lance asked softly.
"I guess it comes from my folk, back in New York where I was born, the Irish were not well thought of. My father tried to cut his brogue, but he wasn't as successful. But he was a jolly man and didn't like fighting."
"Just people, no difference but the way you talk." Lance replied, he took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.
She hoped her hands didn't sweat.
George seemed to watch them.
"That's a pretty city. Went there once. What do you think of Texas?"
"It's very big, a lot less civilization and more wide-open s
paces, it seems." She answered.
Him and Chico got up off the porch steps and nodded to her, "Well, we gotta turn in soon, so we'll say goodnight, sure was nice meeting you."
"Thank you and it was a pleasure meeting you both."
Chico tipped his hat to her and they walked off.
She started to move away but Lance didn't turn lose of her hand yet. "What time does everyone get up around here?"
"Some get up just before dawn, others a little later. I'd say five thirty or six would be a good time for breakfast. Most of the men have a few chores they like to take care of before breakfast. I'll show you around the kitchen so you can find things, if you like?"
"Of course, that would be good."
He finally turned loose of her hand and she let out a breath.
They went back inside, and everyone had left. "They go to bed early around here as morning comes early." He told her.
She nodded.
The kitchen was huge, and he had a big stove and he took her outside to show her the smokehouse and a kind of cooler where some of the meats were stored like hams and bacons.
"I never expected anything like this." She told him.
"We have a lot of men, and eating is essential, so we try to have everything right here that we need. If you have any problems, holler at me in the morning and I'll be glad to show you more, like the chicken coop and stuff."
"Alright, I'm sure I can manage."
"I hope you know how to make coffee. That is one of the most important things for the men. It wakes them up and if it isn't good, they'll complain."
"I can handle it," she assured him.
He looked at her now, "I know you can. I hope you like it here."
"It's a beautiful place, and the men all seem nice. I just wish we didn't have to lie to them."
"It isn't a lie, Trudy, we are married." He stopped and looked straight at her.
"I know, but it's temporary." She told him.
"They've all got manners. Something I insist on."
"Did you ever hear from Priscilla?" she asked in a hushed voice.
"No, nothing yet." He told her.
She nodded.
He came closer, "Trudy, you don't have to be afraid of me."
"I'm not," she insisted.
But when his hands came up to cup her cheeks and his thumbs ran lightly over her, she couldn't stop the blush. He stared into her eyes, and slowly his head bent, and he kissed her on the forehead.
"Guess we should turn in now."
She swallowed hard not understanding the feelings running through her.
She was tongue tied. But as he was turning away, she tip-toed and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for not sending me away." She whispered.
"Sending you away." He asked as she started for her room.
She turned and gave him a smile.
"You could have. I know that. I half expected you to. I never thought I'd get to cook for them all. And I so wanted this job."
"You've got the job." He chuckled.
"Well I—" but she rushed away before he could say anymore.
He stared after her and smiled. "Damn, it's gonna be mighty hard keeping my hands off the cook!"
Chapter Six
The next morning Trudy was up before dawn, she grimaced when she put the same dress on to go to work, but they'd get used to it. She had aprons with her, and that would disguise her dress to some extent. The sleeves were raveling, and it almost made her cry. It was one thing to look so ragged in St. Louis where people sort of expected it of her, but here, she so wanted to make a good impression.
She went into the kitchen and began making the coffee. After she got it going, she went to the smokehouse to cut some bacon, gathered eggs by the light of the lantern she found outside the smokehouse and all the things she'd need for breakfast, like fresh onions and tomatoes sliced.
She felt comfortable here, as strange as it seemed. She was able to find everything easily and being able to cook for all the men made her feel useful. The fact that they appreciated her being there, made her feel even better. Maybe if he thought she was a good enough cook, he'd keep her on, after Priscilla came.
A few minutes later, a few of the cowboys came in and helped themselves to the coffee. She was slowly learning their names and faces and was glad to see they were comfortable enough to help themselves.
"Mornin' ma'am," they greeted her with smiles.
"Morning. Breakfast is almost ready," she smiled.
The men stood around and asked if she needed any help.
She smiled, "No, I'm quite at home in the kitchen."
"Sure, smells good."
"Nothing like bacon to wake you up with a good cup of coffee." One of the young cowboys told her.
By the time they all came in, she had the table set and she served the food up quickly.
They were all eager to try her cooking.
"Would you look at those biscuits?" one of them said.
She put the butter on the table and salt and pepper and after a quick prayer they dug in. When they saw the fresh sliced tomatoes and green onions they smiled.
"Where'd you learn to cook ma'am?" one of the older ones asked.
"I had an Aunt that taught me how, and I loved finding new recipes. The Mayor's cook gave me a lot of them, so I learned to cook many different things." She told them.
"The Mayor's cook? How'd you get to know her?"
"I just went up to her and introduced myself after tasting one of her specialties. She was very friendly and showed me a few tricks of the trade."
"This is a fine a meal as I've had in years, ma'am." George grinned at her.
"I'm glad you like it. Hope I made enough for everyone. It might take me some time to gauge how much you men will eat, but I'll get used to it."
George smiled at her, "Sometimes we are out on the range during noon time, if we had some extra biscuits and bacon, that'd be nice."
"I'll see to it, I'll make extra every morning and you can take them with you, today I'll bring them out to you, it will give me a chance to see more of the country here. Thanks for letting me know."
Lance came in and saw all his men gathered around the table and got a look at the biscuits. "Well, what do you men think of her cooking?"
"She's a keeper, boss," one of the young ones blurted as he stirred his biscuit in the gravy.
George nodded, "Look at those biscuits, light as a feather."
"I'm glad you like it, she enjoys cooking." Lance told them. He poured himself some coffee, and Lance gave his men all instructions on where he wanted them working for the day and after they finished, they all scattered. He had some one mending fences, some on checking salt rocks and the rest on branding.
When the men finished, they got up from the table, thanked her for a wonderful meal and headed out the door.
Lance shot Trudy a glance, "Well, they seemed very impressed. And the coffee is very good."
"I'm glad they liked it. I told you I was a good cook."
"You sure did." He walked by her, stopped, turned around and kissed her sweetly on the lips. "Mornin' darlin'."
"That was wasted, we don't have an audience," she said quite breathlessly.
"I guess I should warn you, my dad used to kiss my mother good morning every day. Mom said it made her day."
She smiled shyly, "Sounds like they were a happy couple."
"No reason we can't be happy, is there?" he whispered then shot her a sexy grin.
"No, I guess not." She smiled. "At least until Priscilla comes, then I might suggest we stop trying to impress each other."
"Are you trying to impress me?"
She blushed, "With the cooking."
He grinned, shook his head and glanced over his shoulder as he helped himself to biscuits and bacon, "I don't know, but you sure got a sweet way of responding every time I kiss you."
"I'm sorry, I didn't even realize." She blushed.
"Don't be sorry darlin', it makes me happy too." He sm
iled.
"Do you think you'll hear form her soon?"
"Priscilla?" he scrunched up his nose.
"Yes."
"I gotta a feeling that things are not as they seem with her. She seems to be hedging, either she's reconsidered the marriage, or found someone else. I don't think it's her mother."
"Why not? Isn't it possible?"
He came toward her now, "She told me, like the first three letters she wrote, her mother was dead. Now, you figure it out."
"Are you sure, maybe it was another relative?" Trudy suggested.
"I went back and reread them, it was her mother, now a dead mother can't get sick."
"What if she comes anyway?"
"Then," he smiled again, "I might just have a few surprises for her."
"Will she be upset that I am here?"
He came closer, lifted her chin with the curve of one finger, "Not that you are here as a cook, but that we are married might shock her. It doesn't matter, you've got this job, no matter what and… we are married."
"Yes, but it can't go on forever!"
He grinned, "Give it time, maybe you'll come to like that job too."
She started to say something, but he leaned to kiss her again. It was shocking how the man could kiss, his lips were like melted butter, and tasted just as good. Her head told her not to response, but her heart didn't listen.
He raised his head and smiled into her hot flushed face, "You sure taste good in the morning."
"You really shouldn't do that when the men aren't around." She muttered softly.
"Why not?" he whispered. "You seem to enjoy it as much as I do, and we are married, so there's no shame in it."
"But you have a fiancée!" she insisted.
"Do I? I don't see her around, do you?"
"Maybe you'll hear something soon." She shot him a smile.
"When someone tells you they are gonna do something, and then they don't. It makes you wonder how you can trust them. You didn't tell me you were coming early, but you were sure here on time. You repeated the vows when I nudged you, even though they were uttered softly. You came out here knowing I have a fiancée, and even though I married you, you carried through on the job too. So, I know I can trust you Trudy, and I damn sure appreciate it too. Especially when the lady that you can trust is your wife."