to admit it, but he was starting to
think that Tony had a valid point. He wasn’t sure Ramona would ever really fit
here. He couldn’t imagine her raising babies, washing laundry, baking and doing
all the things that a pioneer woman had to do just to get by each day. It was a
grueling life, and Ramona didn’t look as though she knew much about hard work.
Michael had never met a woman like her before. Not in Texas, anyway. Maybe
that’s how they all are in New York City, but around here she is going to stand
out like a sore thumb.
Not that Michael hadn’t already noticed the way that the
other men in town stopped and stared when Ramona passed by. As they rode home
in the wagon the previous evening, men had paused in the street, taken their
hats off and stared.
He pondered the situation all day long while they worked in
the heat of the Texas sun. Walking home that evening, he wondered whether he
should just ask her outright what she planned on doing.
I’ll talk to her tonight. I need to find out why Ramona
came to Texas, and if she still intends to become my wife. I need to find out
if she really means to marry me.
Chapter Eight
Ramona
When Ramona awoke the next morning, it took her a moment to
remember where she was. Looking around the room, it all came rushing back to
her. She was at Michael’s house, in Austin, Texas. The morning light poured
through the window, already bringing with it the promise of a warm winter’s day.
The bed she lay in looked as though it had been hewn by hand from a thick log,
wooden nails held each piece in place. The straw tick rustled beneath her, and
she could smell the freshly dried grasses through the linens. A hand-whittled
rocker sat beside the bed, with an extra crocheted blanket spread over one arm.
A rustic vase, made of clay and filled with fresh flowers, sat gaily on a small
table against the wall. Ramona sighed with pleasure. The room really was very homely.
She tried to remember what the rest of the house had looked like, but it had
been so late when she’d arrived the previous night and she’d been so exhausted,
she couldn’t recall much about it.
Ramona crept down the stairs. The house was very quiet. She
noticed that the rest of Michael’s home matched her room nicely. Hand hewn and
whittled furniture decorated each room. The living room held a roaring fire in
a large fireplace on one wall, and the open area led into a snug kitchen and
pantry. From there, Ramona could see a door that appeared to open out into a
back yard. There were a few things that a woman’s touch could add to the home,
such as window dressings and rugs, but overall the house felt inviting and
comfortable. She saw Mary, sitting by the fire, darning a pair of pants.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” replied Mary, standing to her feet and
making her way into the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry, my dear, we would have waited for you to eat
breakfast, but we weren’t sure when you might want to get up. You had a long
journey to recover from. The men have already eaten and gone to work, so we
have the house to ourselves,” said Mary, hurrying to get Ramona a plate.
“Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to wait. I can’t believe
how late I slept. I was so tired, and that bedroom is really very comfortable.”
“Michael made all the furniture himself. He’s got quite the
knack for it,” said Mary, handing Ramona a plate piled high with eggs, and a
slice of bread covered with butter and jam.
“Wow, he has a talent, that’s for sure.” Ramona walked to
the table and sat down to eat. Mary sat across from her, the knitting still in
her hands.
“Thank you. This is delicious,” Ramona bit hungrily into
the bread. She was famished after so many days of travelling.
“You’re most welcome. I’ll show you around today, and when
Michael and Fred come home from working on the new State Capitol tonight, maybe
we can have dinner waiting for them. What do you say?”
“That sounds great,”
think that Tony had a valid point. He wasn’t sure Ramona would ever really fit
here. He couldn’t imagine her raising babies, washing laundry, baking and doing
all the things that a pioneer woman had to do just to get by each day. It was a
grueling life, and Ramona didn’t look as though she knew much about hard work.
Michael had never met a woman like her before. Not in Texas, anyway. Maybe
that’s how they all are in New York City, but around here she is going to stand
out like a sore thumb.
Not that Michael hadn’t already noticed the way that the
other men in town stopped and stared when Ramona passed by. As they rode home
in the wagon the previous evening, men had paused in the street, taken their
hats off and stared.
He pondered the situation all day long while they worked in
the heat of the Texas sun. Walking home that evening, he wondered whether he
should just ask her outright what she planned on doing.
I’ll talk to her tonight. I need to find out why Ramona
came to Texas, and if she still intends to become my wife. I need to find out
if she really means to marry me.
Chapter Eight
Ramona
When Ramona awoke the next morning, it took her a moment to
remember where she was. Looking around the room, it all came rushing back to
her. She was at Michael’s house, in Austin, Texas. The morning light poured
through the window, already bringing with it the promise of a warm winter’s day.
The bed she lay in looked as though it had been hewn by hand from a thick log,
wooden nails held each piece in place. The straw tick rustled beneath her, and
she could smell the freshly dried grasses through the linens. A hand-whittled
rocker sat beside the bed, with an extra crocheted blanket spread over one arm.
A rustic vase, made of clay and filled with fresh flowers, sat gaily on a small
table against the wall. Ramona sighed with pleasure. The room really was very homely.
She tried to remember what the rest of the house had looked like, but it had
been so late when she’d arrived the previous night and she’d been so exhausted,
she couldn’t recall much about it.
Ramona crept down the stairs. The house was very quiet. She
noticed that the rest of Michael’s home matched her room nicely. Hand hewn and
whittled furniture decorated each room. The living room held a roaring fire in
a large fireplace on one wall, and the open area led into a snug kitchen and
pantry. From there, Ramona could see a door that appeared to open out into a
back yard. There were a few things that a woman’s touch could add to the home,
such as window dressings and rugs, but overall the house felt inviting and
comfortable. She saw Mary, sitting by the fire, darning a pair of pants.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” replied Mary, standing to her feet and
making her way into the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry, my dear, we would have waited for you to eat
breakfast, but we weren’t sure when you might want to get up. You had a long
journey to recover from. The men have already eaten and gone to work, so we
have the house to ourselves,” said Mary, hurrying to get Ramona a plate.
“Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to wait. I can’t believe
how late I slept. I was so tired, and that bedroom is really very comfortable.”
“Michael made all the furniture himself. He’s got quite the
knack for it,” said Mary, handing Ramona a plate piled high with eggs, and a
slice of bread covered with butter and jam.
“Wow, he has a talent, that’s for sure.” Ramona walked to
the table and sat down to eat. Mary sat across from her, the knitting still in
her hands.
“Thank you. This is delicious,” Ramona bit hungrily into
the bread. She was famished after so many days of travelling.
“You’re most welcome. I’ll show you around today, and when
Michael and Fred come home from working on the new State Capitol tonight, maybe
we can have dinner waiting for them. What do you say?”
“That sounds great,”
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