Mail Order Misfit (Brides of Beckham) by Kirsten Osbourne Page B

wished he could take back the offensive words, but he knew there was no way to do it.  "I'll be back around noon for lunch.  Will that suit you?"   He stood and walked around the table, leaning down to brush his lips across hers.
    Elaine nodded, grateful for the subject change.  "I'll have something ready then."  She mentally scheduled her day, knowing she would probably not be able to do everything she wanted to do.
    As soon as he left the house, she mixed up several loaves of bread, leaving the bowl on the work table covered by a towel while she stripped the sheets from the bed, and washed all the dirty clothes she could find.  She'd never actually used a washboard and scrubbed clothes herself before, so it was a surprise to her that her muscles ached so much. 
    She hung everything on the line before hurrying back to the kitchen to punch down the bread and divide it into individual pans.  After what he'd said at breakfast, she wanted to make sure that she had some sort of dessert for him for supper.  She had the ingredients for a cake, and that would work, but she had a lot to do before she was ready to bake it.
    While the bread was rising again, she found the cream he'd been saving and cleaned out the butter churn.  She understood the process of churching butter, and had seen it done many times, but she'd never done it herself. 
    By the time Colin came in for lunch, her arms hurt her a great deal more than her leg did.  He saw how she was moving and asked her about it. 
    "I washed the clothes, churned butter, and kneaded bread.  It's a lot of work for the arms."   She ached in places she'd never ached before, but she was thrilled, because it meant she'd put in a hard morning's work.
    He chuckled softly.  "Been a pampered city girl for too long?"  He was glad her leg wasn't hurting her, but he understood that she would have to build up the muscles in her arms for the daily work she'd be doing there. 
    She made a face.  "I didn't want to be a pampered city girl, but I definitely was."  She didn't mind him teasing her, and she was thrilled he wasn't upset that her arms hurt.  She had worried that he would want to put her in a glass case like her mother, but he seemed to think some pain was reasonable and normal.  She liked that about him.
    She put lunch on the table, sandwiches made from salt pork and the fresh bread and butter she'd made.  She sat across from him after pouring them each a glass of milk. "What are you doing today?" she asked after he prayed for them.
    "Mending fences."  He groaned.  "I hate mending fences.  It's probably the worst job on a cattle ranch, but I spend more time doing it than anything else it seems."
    "What about the winter?  How do the cows eat when the snow is covering the grass?"
    "I drive out and throw hay down for them every so often.  They don't have to work hard to find their food that way."  He shrugged. "In the winter of eighty-five it was so bad I lost half my cattle, because of the bad snows.  We're not expecting a winter like that this year.  In fact, no one has ever expected a winter like that."  He hated even thinking about how bad the winter was.
    She nodded.  "It was a tough winter in Massachusetts as well."  She took a bite of her sandwich, watching him as he ate.  She wouldn't always serve sandwiches for lunch but with everything she'd had to do that day, it had seemed like the only logical thing.
    He ate it without complaining.  When he was finished he stood and put his hat back onto his head, leaning down to kiss her.  "Thank you for lunch.  If your leg gets too sore, don't bring that washing in from the line.  I can help with it when I get home." 
    "My leg is fine.  Not nearly as bad as my arms are." She didn't add that she needed to prove to both of them that she could do the job.
    "Good.  Your arms will heal.  I don't want you doing permanent damage to your leg."  He walked toward the door, stopping with his hand on the door