A Marriage Made In Joeville. Anne Eames
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ate some peas, not sure if they’d passed the test, either. Canned tasted so much different, she wasn’t sure. They were hot and not too hard and Hannah had finished all of hers and was reaching for a second helping.
“Them peas are just right,” she said, making fleeting eye contact. “Taters are tasty. Jes need another half hour or so in the oven. Spect there’ll be plenty a’ leftovers. Be jes right next time.”
Essie could feel the moisture on her bottom lashes. She blinked furiously, feeling an enormous gratitude. She’d blown it. Hannah knew it, but didn’t issue the tonguelashing she deserved. Essie’s appraisal of this woman this morning had already proven true. There was a marshmallow under all those dimples and rolls...and a degree of sensitivity that surprised and touched her.
“Did ya make dessert?” Hannah ate the edges around another slice of meat loaf and Essie dropped her fork on her plate.
She sighed in defeat. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Hannah’s hand stop midair and felt the woman’s weary stare.
“Ice cream’s in the freezer on the porch. Got some berries in the fridge...if ya wanna pour some over.”
Essie looked up, hoping the tears wouldn’t spill and she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. But Hannah was tackling another mouthful of potatoes, head down.
“Thank you,” Essie said, and went to the freezer.
When she entered the dining room with her tray of four bowls, the men were busily engaged in a discussion about quarter horses and didn’t stop when she took their unfinished plates and replaced them with the ice cream.
As she pushed her back against the door to the kitchen, Ryder’s gaze locked on her face and she felt the color drain from it.
“Pick you up at the kitchen door in the morning. How’s eight o’clock?”
“F-fine.” She averted her eyes and carried her load to the kitchen. Behind her she heard a burst of laughter and could only imagine what was being said about supper and the new cook. She started rinsing and stacking dirty dishes, glad her back was to Hannah and whomever else might walk through.
Oh, Jenny. How I wish you were here.
She paused and looked out the window. The sun was low in the sky, casting a reddish glow over the mountains. Even though it was early June, snow still blanketed the upper ridges, while fields of wildflowers stretched the distance between here and there, a cool evening breeze tilting their colorful heads eastward. A modicum of the peace she felt earlier returned. Montana was a sight to behold. There was no doubt she’d remain in this paradise, but how long would she survive under this roof? Already they knew her credentials were shaky. When would they ask her to leave?
But of more immediate concern was how she would handle tomorrow with Ryder...alone in the close confines of his truck.
Three
“Jes as I spected! She don’t know squat ‘bout cookin’.”
Max crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Last night was her first night. Maybe she was just nervous. It’s not like we have dozens of applicants to choose from, Hannah. You can’t continue doing it all yourself—”
“So that’s why I decided I’d have ta teach her,” she said, interrupting him.
Max’s chin dropped. Before he could recover, Essie walked down the back stairs, her eyes bloodshot and red rimmed.
When she spotted the pair, she stopped on the last step and took in their smiling faces. Smiles? They were the last things she expected to find this morning. And why was Hannah in the kitchen instead of doing her housework?
“Good morning, Essie,” Max said, his smile still fixed in place.
“Good morning, Mr. Malone.”
“Max. Please.”
She stepped into the kitchen, not sure what to expect next. “Max,” she repeated, and braved a look at Hannah. “Morning, Hannah.”
“Mornin’.” She rubbed her hands together, then said, “Maxwell? If y’all will scuse us, we got breakfast ta get on the table.”
Max did a mock salute and left the room. Hannah banged a couple of skillets on top of burners, turned up the heat, then began unloading food from the refrigerator to the center counter chopping block.
“Well, don’t jes stand there with yer mouth hangin’ open. Put on yer apron and let’s get ta work.”
Breakfast was a huge success, thanks to Hannah’s tutelage. Essie only wished the conversation could have gone as smoothly. Unfortunately Hannah had one thing on her mind this morning: Ryder’s birthday party on Saturday. If the remarks had been limited to the menu, Essie would have begun to relax. It was the rest of it that had her stomach in knots again: “It’s ’bout time he settled down...maybe this Maddy is jes the right woman for Ryder...he seems ta like the li’l boy...if he’s the one I seen ’im with a couple times out back.”
By the time Essie finally climbed into the passenger’s seat of Ryder’s pickup, she’d decided on a little harmless probing. The drive to Billings would take over an hour. Plenty of time to find out how important this Maddy was to him. She’d bide her time, though, and let the conversation take its natural course.
The farther northeast they traveled, the darker the clouds that hung heavy in the sky, looking as though their loads were about to burst. Country music blasted from the dashboard making conversation difficult—which was exactly the way Ryder liked it. When thunder began rumbling, and lightning sliced through the darkness, he saw Essie reach for the knob and turn the volume down.
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