find one." He eyed his friend. "But then again, I don't know if you'll find one lookin' like that."
" Well, I won't have to order me one that's for sure."
" Get back to work."
" That's what I'm doin', Boss," Clive hollered, as he sauntered out of the barn.
John glanced down at his attire. He was too tired to head to the lake to bathe. His body craved the hot water he'd heat from the stove to soothe his sore muscles. He took one last look at his mud stained denims and headed up to the house.
He could smell pot roast the second he stepped onto the porch. The mouth watering aroma caused his stomach to grumble. After he dunked his hands into the cold water in the rain barrel and washed his face and neck, he dried them on the towel that had been placed there. He glanced down one more time, and shrugged. Nothing could be done about the rest of his attire.
Hungry and sore all over, he opened the back door and tramped inside. John took his hat off and hung it on the peg. "Somethin' sure smells good."
Ben and Emily were already seated at the table, and Livy was standing over them dishing up potatoes. He grinned. Ezekiel had stopped in ―he could tell. John was pleased he asked the cook to come and offer some assistance. His stomach rolled when he thought of the salty pancakes they'd had this morning.
He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye. She didn't seem to be angry with him for interfering. In fact, she acted as if he weren't there. She still couldn't be mad about earlier, could she? That had been hours ago. He flexed his jaw. Well, too bad if she was. He was in no mood for a fight, and had no intentions of riling her anymore today.
Damn he was hungry. H e pulled back his chair and every muscle in his arms throbbed. The pain reminded him of the warm bath he would soon sink into.
" What happen to you, Pa?" Ben asked, staring at John's muddy shirt.
" Had to pull a few calves out of a mud hole up in the south-west corner of the field."
" Must've been deep." Ben said.
" Sure was, son." He picked up his knife and buttered a piece of bread.
" Smells like it was more than mud too." Livy wrinkled her nose.
He was learning fast that this woman always seemed to have an opinion. He turned and gave her a look.
" Isn't there a stream you could've washed up in?" she asked, as she passed Ben the peas.
This was his house, damn it, and if he wanted to come in here stark naked he would, let alone covered in mud!
" Actually, Miss Green, there is. I chose to bathe in the house tonight, and last time I checked, I owned it."
Her eyes sliced r ight through him. She didn't say a thing through dinner or later while he was in the sitting room reading a story to the children. She sat in the chair and flipped through her damn cookbook.
John couldn't quite figure her out. What was her problem? Irritated by her cool demeanor, he closed the book he'd been reading.
" Okay, story's over. It's time for bed." He slid Emily and Ben off of his lap, and put the book on the shelf.
" Me want Miss Liby to tuck me in," Emily said.
John stared at Livy. She hadn't moved. Her eyes darted about the room, panic in their depths.
" Um, I….I have dishes to do." She stood and the cookbook fell to the floor in her haste to leave. She scooped it up and fled the room as if a pack of hungry wolves were after her.
He shrugged. She sure seemed nervous and he'd bet ten to one she hadn't been around many children, and hadn't the foggiest idea how to put one to bed. "C'mon Angel, Ben, let's go."
Livy went upstairs after she finished with the dishes, relieved she didn't have to go and help John put the children to bed. She could hear him now, as he talked to Ben and Emily. They were saying their prayers. She frowned. She didn't say prayers anymore. They were never answered anyway.
She sat down on her bed . Why did a man like John believed in God. He had lost his wife, a reason, if any, to be mad at God. Yet he still said prayers with his kids, asking
" Well, I won't have to order me one that's for sure."
" Get back to work."
" That's what I'm doin', Boss," Clive hollered, as he sauntered out of the barn.
John glanced down at his attire. He was too tired to head to the lake to bathe. His body craved the hot water he'd heat from the stove to soothe his sore muscles. He took one last look at his mud stained denims and headed up to the house.
He could smell pot roast the second he stepped onto the porch. The mouth watering aroma caused his stomach to grumble. After he dunked his hands into the cold water in the rain barrel and washed his face and neck, he dried them on the towel that had been placed there. He glanced down one more time, and shrugged. Nothing could be done about the rest of his attire.
Hungry and sore all over, he opened the back door and tramped inside. John took his hat off and hung it on the peg. "Somethin' sure smells good."
Ben and Emily were already seated at the table, and Livy was standing over them dishing up potatoes. He grinned. Ezekiel had stopped in ―he could tell. John was pleased he asked the cook to come and offer some assistance. His stomach rolled when he thought of the salty pancakes they'd had this morning.
He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye. She didn't seem to be angry with him for interfering. In fact, she acted as if he weren't there. She still couldn't be mad about earlier, could she? That had been hours ago. He flexed his jaw. Well, too bad if she was. He was in no mood for a fight, and had no intentions of riling her anymore today.
Damn he was hungry. H e pulled back his chair and every muscle in his arms throbbed. The pain reminded him of the warm bath he would soon sink into.
" What happen to you, Pa?" Ben asked, staring at John's muddy shirt.
" Had to pull a few calves out of a mud hole up in the south-west corner of the field."
" Must've been deep." Ben said.
" Sure was, son." He picked up his knife and buttered a piece of bread.
" Smells like it was more than mud too." Livy wrinkled her nose.
He was learning fast that this woman always seemed to have an opinion. He turned and gave her a look.
" Isn't there a stream you could've washed up in?" she asked, as she passed Ben the peas.
This was his house, damn it, and if he wanted to come in here stark naked he would, let alone covered in mud!
" Actually, Miss Green, there is. I chose to bathe in the house tonight, and last time I checked, I owned it."
Her eyes sliced r ight through him. She didn't say a thing through dinner or later while he was in the sitting room reading a story to the children. She sat in the chair and flipped through her damn cookbook.
John couldn't quite figure her out. What was her problem? Irritated by her cool demeanor, he closed the book he'd been reading.
" Okay, story's over. It's time for bed." He slid Emily and Ben off of his lap, and put the book on the shelf.
" Me want Miss Liby to tuck me in," Emily said.
John stared at Livy. She hadn't moved. Her eyes darted about the room, panic in their depths.
" Um, I….I have dishes to do." She stood and the cookbook fell to the floor in her haste to leave. She scooped it up and fled the room as if a pack of hungry wolves were after her.
He shrugged. She sure seemed nervous and he'd bet ten to one she hadn't been around many children, and hadn't the foggiest idea how to put one to bed. "C'mon Angel, Ben, let's go."
Livy went upstairs after she finished with the dishes, relieved she didn't have to go and help John put the children to bed. She could hear him now, as he talked to Ben and Emily. They were saying their prayers. She frowned. She didn't say prayers anymore. They were never answered anyway.
She sat down on her bed . Why did a man like John believed in God. He had lost his wife, a reason, if any, to be mad at God. Yet he still said prayers with his kids, asking
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