Read Online Carla Kelly by Borrowed Light - Free Book Online Page B

had said something years ago. I got a letter a couple of weeks later from my uncle on the Wind River Rez. Said she showed up one morning and announced that she was cooking for him now.”
    “Oh, dear,” Julia murmured.
    “It's worse. He also told me that he had decided not to leave me part of his herd when he dies. Darling, retribution is swift among the Shoshone.”
    She laughed and looked at the pocket watch. Her smile vanished. Feeling like the Queen of France in a tumbrel, she lifted the coffee pot from the back burner. Alice, her face red with the heat, was stirring down the lava-like oatmeal. She smiled her thanks when Julia slid a trivet under the pot.
    She had hardly moved the pot from the stove to another trivet on the table when Mr. Otto held out a cup. Marlowe covered his face with his hands. “I can't stand the suspense,” he declared.
    Julia took a deep breath, decided that a last appeal to the Almighty about coffee was quite out of order, and poured the brew into her employer's cup. If it comes out cloudy, with shells and slimy strings of egg, I will tear up my diploma, she told herself, if Mr. Otto doesn't do it for me.
    The rancher sniffed the coffee, and then took a cautious snip. And another. “Heavens,” he said, his voice almost reverent. He sipped some more, holding it in his mouth for a lingering moment like the wine taster who lectured one morning in Miss Farmer's fancy cooking class.
    Wordlessly he drank slowly, pausing to blow on the coffee but not stopping until he drained the cup and held it out for more. Just as silent, she filled it again. Max Marlowe snatched up two cups from the table. Her heart full, and not knowing whether to thank Miss Farmer or the Almighty, Julia filled the cups. Marlowe handed the other to his wife, and the three of them drank silently, reverently.
    When his cup was empty, Mr. Otto raised it to her in a salute. “Level measures, eh?” he asked. “Just so much water? No guessing?”
    She shook her head. “It's the scientific way, Mr. Otto.”
    Her employer looked at the Marlowes and then back at his cup. “This is our little secret,” he said. “Marlowe, if word gets out that my cook makes the best coffee on both sides of the Divide, we can just forget the niceties of courtship among my neighbors. I'll be killed and dumped into a borrow pit, and she will be abducted.”
    Alice laughed and took the oatmeal from the stove. “Your little secret!” she scoffed, and then glanced out the front room window. “Too late, Paul. In fact, I think it was too late when you took her into that dining room in Gun Barrel. You know how news travels. What were you thinking?” She gestured toward the window.
    Mystified, Julia joined her employer and Mrs. Marlowe at the window. Alice was shaking her head. “I never imagined Charlie McLemore owned a suit,” she mused, her voice full of wonder. “Where do you suppose he got those flowers?” She sucked in her breath. “Paul, do you suppose he has—”
    “—come to propose?” Mr. Otto finished sourly. “I don't doubt it.” He glared out the window.
    “Julia, I'll get out the cinnamon rolls, and you get another cup,” Alice said, putting her hand to her mouth to hide her smile. “I hope you are prepared with a lot of small talk, my dear.”
    “No!” Mr. Otto said, not leaving his spot by the window. “Don't encourage him!”
    “This is my house, Paul,” Alice reminded him. “He already has sufficient encouragement, anyway. Max, do be quiet or go in the bedroom.”
    His eyes merry, Marlowe gave Julia a sympathetic look and bolted for the bedroom. Julia looked at her employer. “Mr. Otto, he cannot possibly be coming here to propose to me! Can he?” she added, when he was silent. “I don't even know him.”
    “Doesn't matter,” he muttered.
    Mrs. Marlowe was in the kitchen, separating the cinnamon rolls. “He's probably only the man on the fastest horse. From that direction, it looks like he's come from the