Read Online Debra Holland - [Montana Sky 02] by Starry Montana Sky - Free Book Online Page A

difficult to give a child memories of a mother she never knew. She wondered if Wyatt was still in love with his wife. Was that why he’d never remarried? She pushed away a sudden feeling of disappointment by blaming it on tiredness. Her new neighbor’s life was none of her business.
    As Samantha followed Christine into the kitchen, the sweet aroma of fresh-baked apple pie greeted her. She inhaled an appreciative breath, immediately taken back to the memories of the apple strudel she had loved as a child.
    She used to help the cook roll out the dough. Together, they’d stretch it by running their knuckles underneath until it was almost paper thin. Then they’d scatter the apple slices and spices over the dough and, starting with one edge, fold it into a roll. She’d made apple strudel for Juan Carlos and Daniel on several occasions. But at the estancia
,
Don Ricardo wouldn’t allow his daughters-in-law near the kitchen. She’d missed being able to bake.
    The Thompson kitchen looked like a perfect place to spend an afternoon baking. The immaculate room looked as different from Ezra’s dirty, dilapidated kitchen as could be. The ampleworkspace held similar furnishings: stove, table, china cabinet, but instead of a bed and worn leather chair, this kitchen had a pie safe and a rocking chair, with a black-and-tan dog curled up on a small braided rag rug next to it.
    The dog thumped its tail on the floor in greeting, but didn’t rise to meet them. A shelf under the window held clay pots of green sprouts, probably herbs. A red-and-white checked cloth covering the table matched the crisp curtains at the window.
    At a six-hole cast-iron stove, a woman dressed in blue gingham looked up from the pot she’d been stirring. With an exclamation of surprise, she set the wooden spoon across the top of the pot and smoothed her white apron.
    Samantha’s first impression of Mrs. Toffels was of cozy plumpness. She was short and stout, with her bosom overflowing her apron. Her round face crinkled into little smile wrinkles at the sight of them. Tucking a straying strand of gray hair back into her bun, she bustled forward.
    “No, don’t tell me. You must be our new neighbor, Mrs. Rodriguez.” She pulled out the rocking chair. “You just sit right down here and rest. You must be exhausted, poor dear.”
    Samantha touched Maria on the shoulder before moving to the rocker. “This is Maria Sanchez. She’s been with me since my son, Daniel, was born.”
    Mrs. Toffels scooted a wooden chair away from the table, motioning Maria to take a seat.
    Maria smiled shyly and ducked her head before sitting down.
    A woof drew Samantha’s attention to the dog, its muzzle grizzled gray. Christine skipped over and crouched down by the dog, patting it on the head. The dog thumped its tail.
    Mrs. Toffels waved to the dog. “Don’t you mind Matilda here. She’s an old, old lady and doesn’t stir herself too much anymore.”
    “Thank you.” Samantha sank into the rocking chair and rested her hands on the arms to support her aching muscles. “It will feel good to rest a moment.” She felt relieved that on first acquaintance, the cook didn’t appear to have the bigoted opinions held by Mrs. Cobb. She could relax.
    The housekeeper reached over and pressed Christine to her ample bosom. “Hello, darlin’.”
    Christine, eager to communicate her news, danced out of the embrace. “You should see their little horses, Mrs. Toffels.” She bounced up and down. “Small like foals, except they’re full grown. They’re called Falabellas.”
    “Well now, that sounds mighty interesting, and I want to hear all about them. But first I’m sure Mrs. Rodriguez and Maria will need a pick-me-up. They’ve come a long way. Why don’t you get the cookie jar? I’ll put on a kettle for tea.” She looked at Samantha. “Or would you prefer coffee?”
    Samantha smiled at the housekeeper. “Tea would be welcome. Christine’s been describing your wonderful