Deborah Camp by Lonewolf's Woman Page A

Elise couldn’t deny a stab of regret.
    Brushing aside the melancholy feeling, she pointed upward at a set of whirling blades. “Look at the windmill, Penny. Can you hear it singing?”
    Penny cocked one ear. “It’s squeaking.”
    Elise laughed. “Well, it’s all in what you want to hear, I suppose. I like to think that it’s singing to me.”
    “Why does it spin?”
    “It brings us water from belowground. That’s how it’s done in the country.”
    “Let’s wace.”
    “I can’t run with this basket. You go on. Run to that forked tree up there beside the path.”
    “Okay. Weddy … set … go!” Penny darted ahead, yellow skirts and red hair flying.
    Elise picked up her pace while familiarizing herself with the layout of the farm. She’d noticed a chicken coop east of the cabin. A corral, feed lot, hog pen and goat pen spread out behind the weathered, unpainted barn. She’d counted ten cows, five hogs and a couple dozen goats. A fat, dappled gray horse paced in the corral. Up ahead, she could see two mules tethered to a shade tree, while two more labored with Blade farther on.
    A farm wife. That was what she was now. Farm wife. Elise tried it on, finding the fit strange, even uncomfortable. She knew nothing about farming, nothing about livestock or much of anything other than attracting suitors and being a lady of leisure.
    The courtesies and social graces she’d been taught would be of no use in Crossroads, Missouri. What she needed was instruction in sewing, cooking and cleaning. Her knowledge of a working farm was minimal. While she’d heard of slopping the hogs, she had no idea how it was done. And, yes, she knew that cows gave milk, but how did one manipulate an udder to squeeze out the milk? Hens laid eggs, but would the fowl attack her if she attempted to take the eggs? If she’d only known what her future held, she would have paid closer attention to the house help and how things worked, instead of spending her time learning howto handle a household staff and how to waltz like a dream.
    “Out of breath?” Elise asked as she approached Penny.
    “No. I found a snail.” Penny held out her hand, palm up, to show off the slimy treasure.
    “Ooo, Penny! That’s not a snail; that’s a slug! Drop that nasty thing!” Elise hunched her shoulders against the revulsion rising in her. “Don’t wipe your—” Too late, she thought as Penny rubbed her hands on her yellow skirt. “Never mind.” She shaded her eyes with one hand and located Blade again. He’d stopped the mules and was looking in her direction. She waved. He didn’t wave back. Elise held up the basket, but he turned to his mules and farm implements.
    “He is the rudest human being!” she exclaimed.
    “Blade?”
    “Yes.”
    “He doesn’t like us ve-wy much.”
    “He doesn’t know us. Once we get acquainted, he’ll be different.”
    “We should go live with Adam.”
    “This is our home, Penny,” Elise insisted. “We must try hard to make Blade glad he brought us here.”
    “I’ll pick a bouquet for him,” Penny said, bending to pluck a dandelion.
    Elise smiled, touched by her sister’s gesture. “That’s nice, Pen. I’m sure he’ll like that.”
And if he doesn’t, I’ll make him sorry!
she mentally added.
    They were only a few feet from him when he yanked on the reins to stop the mules in their traces. He glanced at Elise, a frown creasing his wide forehead.
    “I don’t have time to stop and chat.”
    Elise drilled him with a hard glare. “We aren’t here to chat. I brought you some food and drink. I didn’t know if you’d eaten this morning.”
    “And I brought you these,” Penny said, holding out a fistful of dandelions and primroses.
    Magically, the frown disappeared and a tender smile graced his wide mouth. His eyes crinkled at the corners. Elise saw that the skin in those crinkles was a paler color for want of the sun. When he wasn’t smiling or squinting, the pale lines fanned out against his dark