Madeline: Bride of Nebraska (American Mail-Order Bride 37) by Mia Blackwood Page B
Book: Madeline: Bride of Nebraska (American Mail-Order Bride 37) by Mia Blackwood
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Authors: Mia Blackwood
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Saga, Western, Short-Story, Religious, Christian, Inspirational, disaster, Bachelor, Marriage of Convenience, Faith, Past Issues, Nebraska, victorian era, Forever Love, Single Woman, Fifty-Books, Forty-Five Authors, Newspaper Ad, American Mail-Order Bride, Factory Burned, Pioneer, Past Ghosts, Family Ranch, Thirty-Seven In Series, Deceased Husband, Second Marriage, Profitable, Fifteen Years
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went to ask him something, for crying out loud!”
Caleb clenched his jaw and looked at his wife through narrowed eyes. His mother had never spoken to his father like that. Who did she think she was talking to? “Stop shouting, or you’ll wake little Georgie!”
“I’m not shouting. You are!” Truth be told, they both were raising their voices, but as far as Madeline was concerned, Caleb had started it. After wrestling with the cow for what felt like an hour and nearly getting pecked to death by crazed chickens, the man should have been grateful for the work she had done instead of being angry with her for being outside.
“I am not shouting!” Caleb shouted angrily.
Suddenly they could both hear the sound of George wailing in alarm upstairs. Caleb shot an angry look at his wife before he raced upstairs to calm his nephew.
Madeline glared at him as he left. She muttered to herself and turned to the sink to wash up before making breakfast. Angry or not, they still needed to eat. After washing up, she quickly turned toward the table to begin prepping for breakfast. As she turned, feathers and straw fluttered to the floor from her hair. The sight stopped her in her tracks and doused the flames of her anger.
She reached up and touched her hair. She could feel the bits of straw and feathers in it. She looked around for a mirror, then remembered there was one on the wash stand in her bedroom. She hurried upstairs to see how bad it was, but slowed her steps at the top. She could hear Caleb singing softly to his nephew in a deep baritone. She paused outside the door and listened for a moment before continuing to her room. It sounded as though George were calming down and attempting to sing along with his uncle.
Madeline had to cover her mouth to stifle a giggle when she realized that Caleb was singing “Johnny Get Your Gun.” She hurried to her room so she would not be overheard. A giggle escaped her lips as soon as she walked into her room, but froze the moment she glimpsed herself in the mirror.
She looked as though she had been in an explosion…in a barn. Bits of straw and downy feathers stood out at random angles against the darkness of her hair. She had taken care to shake her dress after she had finished milking the cow, but had not thought to check her hair. How on earth had her husband not laughed at her?
She began the process of pulling the straw and feathers from her hair and thought back to what her husband had said. Now that she had calmed down, she realized his harsh words had come from fear more than anger. He was truly concerned that the murderer was loose and that she could have been harmed.
She could not help but feel that she should have been more patient with him and bit her tongue. After fighting with the chickens for their eggs and then spending all that time fumbling around while trying to get the cow milked, her temper had been short, to say the least. She honestly had not given any thought to the killer still being on the loose.
She quickly finished pulling the straw and feathers from her hair, then rebraided it to keep it out of her way as she worked in the kitchen. She made her way downstairs quietly and smiled as she passed George’s room. Caleb had a lovely singing voice. She hoped to hear more of it in the days and years to come.
*****
After two rounds of “Johnny Get Your Gun,” Caleb was relieved to see George give him a smile. He had no clue as to why his nephew liked that song so much, but was pleased it had calmed him down. He helped George get dressed and they made their way downstairs together, hand in hand.
They walked into the kitchen together to find Madeline at the stove, a stack of flapjacks on a plate at her side. Three places had been set at the table, with a tin cup half full of milk at one place setting. Caleb sat George down and handed him his cup. George greedily drank it down.
Madeline heard them enter, but waited until her last flapjack was ready to come off
Caleb clenched his jaw and looked at his wife through narrowed eyes. His mother had never spoken to his father like that. Who did she think she was talking to? “Stop shouting, or you’ll wake little Georgie!”
“I’m not shouting. You are!” Truth be told, they both were raising their voices, but as far as Madeline was concerned, Caleb had started it. After wrestling with the cow for what felt like an hour and nearly getting pecked to death by crazed chickens, the man should have been grateful for the work she had done instead of being angry with her for being outside.
“I am not shouting!” Caleb shouted angrily.
Suddenly they could both hear the sound of George wailing in alarm upstairs. Caleb shot an angry look at his wife before he raced upstairs to calm his nephew.
Madeline glared at him as he left. She muttered to herself and turned to the sink to wash up before making breakfast. Angry or not, they still needed to eat. After washing up, she quickly turned toward the table to begin prepping for breakfast. As she turned, feathers and straw fluttered to the floor from her hair. The sight stopped her in her tracks and doused the flames of her anger.
She reached up and touched her hair. She could feel the bits of straw and feathers in it. She looked around for a mirror, then remembered there was one on the wash stand in her bedroom. She hurried upstairs to see how bad it was, but slowed her steps at the top. She could hear Caleb singing softly to his nephew in a deep baritone. She paused outside the door and listened for a moment before continuing to her room. It sounded as though George were calming down and attempting to sing along with his uncle.
Madeline had to cover her mouth to stifle a giggle when she realized that Caleb was singing “Johnny Get Your Gun.” She hurried to her room so she would not be overheard. A giggle escaped her lips as soon as she walked into her room, but froze the moment she glimpsed herself in the mirror.
She looked as though she had been in an explosion…in a barn. Bits of straw and downy feathers stood out at random angles against the darkness of her hair. She had taken care to shake her dress after she had finished milking the cow, but had not thought to check her hair. How on earth had her husband not laughed at her?
She began the process of pulling the straw and feathers from her hair and thought back to what her husband had said. Now that she had calmed down, she realized his harsh words had come from fear more than anger. He was truly concerned that the murderer was loose and that she could have been harmed.
She could not help but feel that she should have been more patient with him and bit her tongue. After fighting with the chickens for their eggs and then spending all that time fumbling around while trying to get the cow milked, her temper had been short, to say the least. She honestly had not given any thought to the killer still being on the loose.
She quickly finished pulling the straw and feathers from her hair, then rebraided it to keep it out of her way as she worked in the kitchen. She made her way downstairs quietly and smiled as she passed George’s room. Caleb had a lovely singing voice. She hoped to hear more of it in the days and years to come.
*****
After two rounds of “Johnny Get Your Gun,” Caleb was relieved to see George give him a smile. He had no clue as to why his nephew liked that song so much, but was pleased it had calmed him down. He helped George get dressed and they made their way downstairs together, hand in hand.
They walked into the kitchen together to find Madeline at the stove, a stack of flapjacks on a plate at her side. Three places had been set at the table, with a tin cup half full of milk at one place setting. Caleb sat George down and handed him his cup. George greedily drank it down.
Madeline heard them enter, but waited until her last flapjack was ready to come off
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