Read Online Brides of Iowa by Connie; Stevens - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Connie; Stevens
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they all care only for themselves.
“What do you think?”
Tessa’s face warmed. What did she think? She thought Gideon Maxwell was a very nice man. Very nice indeed. “About what?”
“Weren’t you paying attention? I asked you what you think we should do now that my hand is getting better. Fact is, I should be able to start doing the baking again in another day or two.”
Tessa folded the pastry dough over and laid it into the pie plate in front of her. “I haven’t given it much thought. I rather like doing the baking. Tillie does more of the serving than I do, although I help her as much as I can. You really do have your hands full just cooking the meals.”
Flossie put her hands on her ample hips and stared at her. “Tessa, you’re only getting paid thirty-five cents a day because Mr. Kilgore still doesn’t know you’re doing all the baking.”
Tessa shrugged. “The tips have gotten a lot better.”
Flossie laughed. “That’s because folks love your desserts, not to mention your biscuits, your white bread, and your yeast rolls. The tips won’t be as good when they start eating the stuff I bake again.”
Tessa and Tillie exchanged looks. “Flossie, you aren’t thinking about telling Mr. Kilgore, are you?”
Worry lines dug trenches across Flossie’s forehead, and she turned back to the stove. “I don’t want to. But it’s not right that you’re doin’ so much work and not gettin’ paid for it, Tessa. Before you came here, I’d never had anyone do something so nice for me like you did.”
Tessa heard a sniff coming from Flossie’s direction. She didn’t know what to say. The feeling Flossie described was familiar to her. The day they buried Mama, she experienced more kindness than she’d ever thought existed in the world, and she didn’t know what to do to repay the people like the preacher, Mrs. Dunnigan, and Gideon. Especially Gideon.
“Why don’t we just continue the way we are? I’m not complaining. I keep trying to tell you I like to bake. It’s more enjoyable than waiting tables and dodging rude men.” She slid three pies into the oven and wiped her hands on a towel. “As soon as those pies come out of the oven, these loaves of bread will be ready to go in. I’m going to go help Tillie clear tables.”
Several diners lingered at their tables over second cups of coffee.
Tessa removed plates and bowls and collected as many compliments as she did tips. She smiled and thanked the patrons and encouraged them to come again. With her tray loaded, she balanced it carefully through the kitchen doors and traded it for a clean, empty one. “Flossie, can you check the water reservoir to make sure we have plenty of hot water? I’ll be right back and start these dishes.”
Tray in hand, she pushed the kitchen door open again and headed for the other side of the dining room. At the second table, she came face-to-face with Gideon Maxwell.
“Hello there.”
“Hello, Gideon. It’s nice to see you. Did you enjoy your meal?”
Gideon smiled. “I ate dinner at home. My sister, Martha, is trying to learn to cook before she gets married in a couple of months, and I’m her victim. That is, I’m her loving big brother, so I have to—I mean, I
get
to—eat everything she cooks.”
His smile as well as his teasing comment about his sister warmed her and made her wonder what it might be like to sit across the table from him and listen to his rich voice and watch his eyes twinkle. She’d wanted to know him better from the first day she met him, but it hardly seemed appropriate, his being a business owner and her nothing more than a serving girl.
“Do you need more coffee?”
“No, thanks. I just stopped in for a slice of the best apple pie this side of the Mississippi River, and I don’t want to wash the taste out of my mouth with coffee.”
Heat filled her face, and she couldn’t keep from smiling. She lowered her eyes and reached to take his empty plate, noting there
“What do you think?”
Tessa’s face warmed. What did she think? She thought Gideon Maxwell was a very nice man. Very nice indeed. “About what?”
“Weren’t you paying attention? I asked you what you think we should do now that my hand is getting better. Fact is, I should be able to start doing the baking again in another day or two.”
Tessa folded the pastry dough over and laid it into the pie plate in front of her. “I haven’t given it much thought. I rather like doing the baking. Tillie does more of the serving than I do, although I help her as much as I can. You really do have your hands full just cooking the meals.”
Flossie put her hands on her ample hips and stared at her. “Tessa, you’re only getting paid thirty-five cents a day because Mr. Kilgore still doesn’t know you’re doing all the baking.”
Tessa shrugged. “The tips have gotten a lot better.”
Flossie laughed. “That’s because folks love your desserts, not to mention your biscuits, your white bread, and your yeast rolls. The tips won’t be as good when they start eating the stuff I bake again.”
Tessa and Tillie exchanged looks. “Flossie, you aren’t thinking about telling Mr. Kilgore, are you?”
Worry lines dug trenches across Flossie’s forehead, and she turned back to the stove. “I don’t want to. But it’s not right that you’re doin’ so much work and not gettin’ paid for it, Tessa. Before you came here, I’d never had anyone do something so nice for me like you did.”
Tessa heard a sniff coming from Flossie’s direction. She didn’t know what to say. The feeling Flossie described was familiar to her. The day they buried Mama, she experienced more kindness than she’d ever thought existed in the world, and she didn’t know what to do to repay the people like the preacher, Mrs. Dunnigan, and Gideon. Especially Gideon.
“Why don’t we just continue the way we are? I’m not complaining. I keep trying to tell you I like to bake. It’s more enjoyable than waiting tables and dodging rude men.” She slid three pies into the oven and wiped her hands on a towel. “As soon as those pies come out of the oven, these loaves of bread will be ready to go in. I’m going to go help Tillie clear tables.”
Several diners lingered at their tables over second cups of coffee.
Tessa removed plates and bowls and collected as many compliments as she did tips. She smiled and thanked the patrons and encouraged them to come again. With her tray loaded, she balanced it carefully through the kitchen doors and traded it for a clean, empty one. “Flossie, can you check the water reservoir to make sure we have plenty of hot water? I’ll be right back and start these dishes.”
Tray in hand, she pushed the kitchen door open again and headed for the other side of the dining room. At the second table, she came face-to-face with Gideon Maxwell.
“Hello there.”
“Hello, Gideon. It’s nice to see you. Did you enjoy your meal?”
Gideon smiled. “I ate dinner at home. My sister, Martha, is trying to learn to cook before she gets married in a couple of months, and I’m her victim. That is, I’m her loving big brother, so I have to—I mean, I
get
to—eat everything she cooks.”
His smile as well as his teasing comment about his sister warmed her and made her wonder what it might be like to sit across the table from him and listen to his rich voice and watch his eyes twinkle. She’d wanted to know him better from the first day she met him, but it hardly seemed appropriate, his being a business owner and her nothing more than a serving girl.
“Do you need more coffee?”
“No, thanks. I just stopped in for a slice of the best apple pie this side of the Mississippi River, and I don’t want to wash the taste out of my mouth with coffee.”
Heat filled her face, and she couldn’t keep from smiling. She lowered her eyes and reached to take his empty plate, noting there
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