Mail Order Meals

by Kirsten Osbourne

  She laughed. “I thought you wanted a wife who knew how to cook. Why are you acting like you’re disappointed that I’m good at it?” Trudie had always loved to cook, learning from her mother when her mother was not working, and from her older sisters when her mother was. Susan taught Trudie a great deal before she’d moved to Texas.

  He shrugged. “I’m glad you can cook, of course, but I just wish you weren’t good at everything.”

  “I’m not good at everything. I’m terrible at geography.” She had never been able to figure out her north from her south.

  “You are?” he asked. “I find that difficult to believe.”

  “Trust me, I’m bad at it. I have no sense of direction either. People would give me directions, and I’d get so turned around, I wouldn’t be able to find my way to save my life.” She put the last of the foods on the table and sat down beside him, bowing her head as she waited for the prayer.

  While they ate, she talked to him about what she’d planted, and he talked a little about his day on the ranch. “My foreman was sick today, and I sent him home right after lunch, which meant I spent the entire day working on fences with only four men. The others were out helping with the calves.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I desperately want to make sure none of the calves are lost this year, but that’s really hard to do. Especially down one man.”

  “How sick is he? I could make him some chicken soup.” Trudie had often fixed chicken soup for the ailing back in Massachusetts.

  He grinned. “You think your cooking can fix anything, don’t you?”

  She shrugged. “I think good food can fix anything. And if I’m the one cooking, then I know the food is good.”

  “You’re right about that. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed meals as much as I have since you came here. Have I mentioned yet that I’m glad it was you and not the woman I was picturing in my mind?”

  “My sister thought I would be perfect for you. She told me so when she handed me the letter.” Elizabeth was always right about those things, though none of her siblings wanted to admit it. She said she could feel who the right woman was for the letter in her hands.

  “Your sister?” he asked.

  “Yes, my sister Elizabeth. She owns the mail-order bride agency.”

  Doug shook his head. “Did you tell me that?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important. Do you?” Why did it matter if it was her sister who sent her to be his wife?

  “If you couldn’t cook and your sister sent you to marry me, I’d be pretty darned annoyed, but since you’re a great cook...I’ll let it slide.”

  Trudie grinned. “I’m sure Elizabeth will be very relieved you’re not angry with her.” She wanted to roll her eyes, but she decided that would look childish.

  Chapter 5

  Trudie hurried as she did the dishes that night, happy that they would be going for a walk together. She grabbed a small pail for the raspberries and a basket for the cherries, handing Doug the pail to carry. “I haven’t really explored at all yet,” she said. “Normally, I would have wandered around the whole area, but since it’s already June, I needed to get my garden in quickly.”

  “Let’s go away from the road,” he suggested. “It’s still my land, and I’ve seen both cherries and raspberries this way.” He was a little disappointed that their walk together was going to turn into fruit picking, but he was thrilled that he would have the opportunity to eat the cherries and raspberries, so he was going to not worry over it too much.

  “How far out here do you own the land?” she asked.

  “About a half mile this way. We won’t have to walk quite that far to get the fruit, though.”

  “I wouldn’t mind walking the entire way,” she said. “I enjoy walks in the country. I walked into town every day that I could when I was back east. Sometimes when it was really cold, my father would take me, but I liked walking so much that I usually just bundled up extra good.”

  “I’m happy to walk with you whenever you want to go out.”

  “Would it be dangerous for me to walk by myself?” she asked. She would always take her slingshot of course, but she wasn’t sure if there would be predators that would prevent her from being able to use it.

  He shook his head. “Not really. There are some bears in the area, but they don’t usually come this close to people.”

  She frowned. “I could take a pistol if you wouldn’t mind that. I’m a crack shot.”

  “Of course, you are. Who taught you to shoot?”

  “Oh, my brothers. When I was so good with a slingshot, they decided that I needed to learn to shoot a gun. And then a bow and arrow. Then they regretted teaching me because I can outshoot all of them.” Trudie shrugged. Her brothers had been too prideful when it came to shooting practice.

  “All right. I would not have a problem with you going alone if you took a gun with you. I think that’s a good idea, in fact.”

  “Wonderful.” Trudie had always preferred to walk alone, and having to wait for her husband to finish work so she could enjoy nature would have really bothered her. She’d get her work done, and then she would walk.

  She spotted the cherry tree just feet from some raspberry bushes. “You get the raspberries, and I’ll get the cherries.”

  He frowned. “To get the cherries, you’d need to climb the tree.” Maybe she could shoot, but he was certain she wouldn’t be able to climb a tree. No woman really could.

  Trudie didn’t hesitate. She put the basket over her forearm and a foot on a low knot on the tree. Within seconds she was sitting on a low branch, plucking cherries from all around her. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

  Doug shook his head at her. She certainly wasn’t a refined lady like he’d expect her to be, but she got every job she set in front of her done. He wasn’t sure if he should scold her for climbing the tree, or applaud how swiftly she’d done it. This wife of his was a confusing woman.

  As soon as she finished filling her basket, she called for Doug to come take it from her. “I don’t want to risk spilling them on my way down.”

  He grinned as she scurried to the ground with the deftness of a squirrel. “Don’t tell me. Your brothers taught you to climb trees?”

  She shook her head. “Actually no. My sisters. We built a treehouse that the boys weren’t allowed into after they built one and my father said it was fine the girls couldn’t go in it, because girls were incapable of climbing trees. It made us angry, so we had to prove him wrong.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sure you’re happy to be in Colorado now then. Women have had the vote here for three years.” Most independent women he knew had wanted the vote, and they were thrilled to be able to exercise their rights as citizens.

  “Wait...are you serious? I can vote?” Trudie had never even considered voting. It was something she would have to think about and study. Of course, in the modern year of 1898, women should be able to vote. It was almost the twentieth century.

  He nodded, enjoying the excitement on her face. “Now I’m not sure I want my wife to vote...” he said teasingly.

  She took one of the cherries from her basket and threw it at his head.

  “Ouch! The pit was in there.” He rubbed his head.

  “And now you know to never threaten my voting privileges, don’t you?” Trudie was amused by the mark left on his face. She was certain it was cherry juice. At least she hoped his skin wasn’t reddening from her throwing it at him.

  He shook his head. “You didn’t tell me you had good aim when throwing.”

  “No, but you knew I had good aim with a slingshot and a gun. You couldn’t have questioned my throwing arm.”

  He laughed. “I shouldn’t have, I guess.”

  As soon as they arrived back in the house, Trudie sat at the table. “I’m trying to decide if I want to start pitting the cherries before I go to bed.” It was already dark out, and she needed to be up early to cook breakfast. “I’m going to wait unt
il morning, I think. I can work on the cherries tomorrow. I’ll probably can some and bake a pie as well. Where is the handgun, and I’ll go pick some more tomorrow if I have time?” She loved the freedom she would have as his wife. Having a choice of where she wanted to walk and what she wanted to do was something thrilling to her.

  He showed her where he kept it on a shelf in the parlor. “You know I’ve never even been in here,” she said. “I guess I should have explored the whole house, but you seem to be so terribly fond of the kitchen...”

  “That’s where my food comes from. How could I not be fond of it?” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him, surprising her with a kiss. “Thank you for making me pies.”

  She shook her head. “You’re going to want pies every day now, aren’t you?”

  “I probably can’t eat a whole one in one meal. So, make it for supper, and I’ll have the other half for lunch.”

  “Do I not get pie?” Trudie asked, glaring at him.

  “Okay, you can have two pieces, which leaves the other six pieces for me. Three for lunch and three for supper.”

  She shook her head. “You eat more than three of my brothers combined!” She hadn’t imagined it would be possible for anyone to out eat her brothers.

  “Well, I do a lot of work. I’m sure your brothers don’t work as hard as I do.”

  Trudie refused to comment on his reasoning. “I’m going to bed. I’ll work on the cherries in the morning, and make sure you have a pie for supper.”

  “Have I told you yet that you are the very best of wives?”

  “No, and it’s probably not something you should tell me. It might go to my head.” With that, she turned and hurried up the stairs to change into her nightgown.

  Just after she’d turned down the lantern, Doug came into the room and stripped all of his clothes off again. When he got into bed with her this time, he didn’t ask for anything, he simply started kissing her and stroking his hands over her body.

  When he dared to cup her breast in his hand, she gasped. “I don’t know that I’ve given you that liberty yet.” But it felt good.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes a man has to take liberties whether they’ve been given or not.” His hand stayed at her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand moved down her body and cupped her bottom in his hand, pulling her against his erection. “I think it’s time for you to remove this nightgown.”

  Trudie thought about refusing him, but she knew she couldn’t hold him off much longer, and the truth was, she was feeling some of his passion. Her fingers went to the three buttons on the front of her nightgown, and she slowly undid them.

  He pulled her nightgown over her head, and his hands began roaming all over her naked body. “I’ve been dying to touch you since before I saw you naked yesterday.”

  She smiled. “You wouldn’t leave.” He hadn’t mentioned the incident to her, and she really wondered if he’d forgotten.

  He laughed. “And I got an eyeful.” He stroked his hands over her breasts, toying with her nipples. “You are so beautiful. With clothes and without.”

  “I’ll do my best to keep my clothes on during the day, though.”

  “That may be for the best,” he said. “I’m not sure I could be working out on the range if I knew you were here with no clothes on. It would make me crazy.”

  She laughed. “I think you make yourself crazy already. You don’t need me to do anything to add to it.”

  “What?” As he said it, he flipped her onto her back, and his knee came up between her legs, settling at her core. “You can’t talk to me that way, wife!”

  “And who is about to stop me?” she asked. “Have you forgotten my aim?”

  Doug saw no other way to quiet her, so he covered her mouth with his, as one hand slid between her thighs and probed her heat. He was surprised at just how hot she was there, and he toyed with her for a moment before rolling atop her.

  He knew better than to take his mouth from hers, so he continued the kiss, even as he penetrated her body with his own.

  Trudie gasped as she felt that part of him inside her, but he swallowed the small pained sound. It wasn’t long before he began moving inside her, and her feelings returned to the same fever pitch they’d been at before he had entered her.

  All at once, he let out a loud sound and it was over. He rolled to her side, and wrapped an arm around her, holding her close.

  She had expected him to praise her, but instead he was snoring in her ear. It made her want to swat his shoulder, but what good would that do? She’d get her praise tomorrow. At least she would get it if he knew what was good for him.

  TRUDIE WAS UP EARLY, and she had breakfast waiting when Doug came in with the milk and the eggs. “I hope you’re hungry,” she said as she put a large omelet on the table in front of him, two pieces of toast on the side.

  He nodded, and prayed as soon as she was seated. “I need to get out there early today, because I don’t know if my foreman is up to working again yet, and someone has to direct the men. I’m hoping for more calves today.”

  “How many have there been so far?” she asked.

  “We’ve had five hundred twenty this spring. I was hoping for six hundred, but we’ll see if we reach that.” He ate his food as quickly as he could. “All right, I’ll see you at lunch.” He gave her an absentminded kiss before heading for the door.

  She frowned after him. She hadn’t gotten the praise she’d expected. The man needed to learn how to talk to his wife, and he needed to learn soon. He was making her crazy.

  After finishing the breakfast dishes, she made the dough for the bread for the day, and then heated water for the wash. She hated doing the laundry, but it was a necessary evil, and she would get it done and then not have to do it for another week. Besides, she had Doug all to herself the next day, and they would be going to church. It would be a good day.

  As soon as she’d hung the laundry on the line, she went in and punched down her bread, setting it in the pans to rise once more. She’d made a little extra, and she added some cinnamon and sugar to it, along with extra butter, knowing her husband’s fondness for sweets...and any other food he could get his hands on. Now he’d have some dessert for his lunch.

  She reheated the fried chicken from the night before, and warmed up the potatoes for lunch. Now that she had a better idea of how much he ate, she was better able to judge how much he’d eat for a meal and have some left for lunch the following day.

  She planned to get up early the next day and make her chicken and dumplings for the church potluck. Doug had yet to try her chicken and dumplings, and she was certain as soon as he tasted them, he’d fall madly in love with her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted or needed his love yet, but she’d at least make the effort.

  When he came in for lunch, he quickly ate everything in front of him and headed back out, saying very little to her.

  As she thought about it, Trudie’s temper rose. Now that he’d gotten what he wanted from her, he wasn’t going to talk to her any longer? What kind of man was he? She would have to tell him exactly what she thought of him when he came in for supper that night. She briefly thought about making his meal something that even he wouldn’t find palatable, but after eating with him as much as she had, she knew better than trying. If he wouldn’t eat it, then it wasn’t worth eating.

  First, she baked a cherry pie. She’d whip the cream to go with it right before serving it. Then she sat down at the table and started on the curtains she wanted to make. Most of the afternoon was spent sewing, but right before Doug was due back, she fried up the pork chops she had in the ice box and made some fried potatoes to go with them.

  She was just taking the potatoes off the stove when he walked in. “Supper smells good,” he said, washing his hands and sitting down at the table.

  Trudie served the meal, and waited for him to tell her how good it was, but he didn’t. He ate it like he’d been eating her cooking for twenty yea
rs. She wasn’t sure what was going through his head. He was being very distant, and it bothered her a great deal.

  “What time do we need to leave for church in the morning?”

  “Around nine. Are you planning to take something for the potluck?” he asked.

  “I thought I’d get up early and make chicken and dumplings. It was my most requested meal at the diner.” She wanted to tell him that the dumplings would melt in his mouth, but she wanted to see his face the first time he ate them as well.

  “That’s nice.”

  His mind was obviously on something else, and she wanted to ask him what was wrong with him, but she wasn’t sure it was her place. She was simply mail-order meals, not a real wife. He’d made that clear. Besides, if Doug wasn’t up to talking about food, there was something very wrong with the world.

  After supper, he went to milk the cow while she did the dishes, and then she sat down and wrote a letter. He didn’t watch her this time, instead he sat with ledgers in front of him. “Are you worried about money?” she asked. She had a good deal of money saved from working, so she was ready to help financially if she needed to.

  He shook his head, but didn’t say anything else, and she had to wonder again what was wrong. Something was bothering him, and she had no idea how to tell what it was. He wasn’t even making silly jokes about food anymore. Had something happened?

  When they went to bed, he made love to her, but there was none of the teasing banter of the night before. It was as if she’d married one man, and as soon as they’d had relations, he became someone else.

  She lay awake long after he’d gone to sleep, wondering why he had been so distant. She didn’t much like it, but she would do her best to keep pushing through. There was nothing else to do.

  TRUDIE WAS UP EVEN earlier than usual the next morning, and she took the chicken she’d boiled the previous day from the ice box and deboned it. When she was finished with that, she set the chicken pieces in the broth she’d made while cooking the chicken, and then she put it on to boil.