have to figure out how to make it. Come winter, a hot bowl of soup would be a hearty dish to serve.
“Do you suppose we’ll ever eat in the fancy dining room, Cath?” Greta said, placing the forks and spoons next to the plates.
Catharine muttered, “Maybe when I learn to cook something edible or special.” She paused, looking at the food she’d placed on the kitchen table. “Though I have little appetite right now, I’m sure Peter will be hungry when he gets home for lunch.”
“He’s been gone for hours.” Putting the glasses on the table, Greta turned to glance out the window. “What do you suppose he does all day long?”
“Plenty, I’m sure. I think I’ll ask him what chores we’re expected to do. Without help, I don’t see how he gets it all done.” For some moments Catharine watched as her sister gazed out the window with longing in her pretty face, far removed from the little kitchen. What beautiful innocence. “Are you longing for home?” Catharine asked.
Greta jumped at her question and turned to face her sister. “No . . . not at all. I was just thinking . . .”
“Something bothering you?” Catharine knew that Greta was never one to be quiet for long.
Greta moved to fill the glasses with water but kept her eyes lowered. “Oh . . . it’s nothing, really.”
Catharine didn’t feel reassured. Ever since Greta had met the soldier in town, Catharine had caught her daydreaming at odd times. That was more in character for Anna than Greta. Catharine shook the worry away when she heard Peter swing open the back door.
Smiling, he walked over to where she was standing and kissed her cheek, then hung his hat over the rung of the kitchen chair. “Hello, beautiful!”
Before she could answer, he glanced over at the table with a puzzled look on his face, but if he thought the fare was bare, he made no comment. Instead he headed to the sink to wash his hands.
“There wasn’t much that I could fix, Peter, but I hope this will do. Is there some meat I could use for dinner?” She felt her face flush as his gaze softened. Probably regrets his decision to make me his wife. “Greta, can you go call Anna and tell her lunch is ready? I don’t know where she got off to.”
Greta set the water pitcher down on the table. “I’ll go find her,” she said with exasperation in her tone.
As soon as she’d left the room, Peter pulled Catharine to him and gave her a long, delicious kiss that left her breathless. “Things would be different if we lived alone, you know.” He gave her waist a tight squeeze, and his hand felt warm through the fabric of her dress.
She winced. “If you’re regretting your decision, Peter—”
“I didn’t say that,” he said. “I’m just saying I might not have even left our bed this morning. I’d have you snuggled close to me until I had to go take care of the animals.” He grinned mischievously and his lips twitched when she leaned back to flash him a smile. He reached up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “You smell so good.”
“Oh. If you say so.”
“I say so, and since I’m the master of the house, what I say is a fact,” he teased. He kissed her brow before releasing her. “Will the girls be back soon?”
“We’re here now, Peter,” Greta said as she came through the kitchen door. Anna traipsed in behind her with grass stains on her dress and her blonde hair wild and loose.
“Anna, what happened to you?” Catharine stepped toward her sister.
“What?” Anna looked down at the marks on her dress. “Oh, that . . . well, ja , I suppose it’s from sitting in the grass by the creek. It’ll wash out, won’t it?”
Catharine just shook her head, “ Ja , but you’ll be the one to scrub it.”
Peter pulled out the chairs for them, then took his seat. “I’ll bless the food.” After he said “Amen,” he dished a helping of green beans onto his plate, then passed the bowl to Anna. She wrinkled her nose at the dish, passed
“Do you suppose we’ll ever eat in the fancy dining room, Cath?” Greta said, placing the forks and spoons next to the plates.
Catharine muttered, “Maybe when I learn to cook something edible or special.” She paused, looking at the food she’d placed on the kitchen table. “Though I have little appetite right now, I’m sure Peter will be hungry when he gets home for lunch.”
“He’s been gone for hours.” Putting the glasses on the table, Greta turned to glance out the window. “What do you suppose he does all day long?”
“Plenty, I’m sure. I think I’ll ask him what chores we’re expected to do. Without help, I don’t see how he gets it all done.” For some moments Catharine watched as her sister gazed out the window with longing in her pretty face, far removed from the little kitchen. What beautiful innocence. “Are you longing for home?” Catharine asked.
Greta jumped at her question and turned to face her sister. “No . . . not at all. I was just thinking . . .”
“Something bothering you?” Catharine knew that Greta was never one to be quiet for long.
Greta moved to fill the glasses with water but kept her eyes lowered. “Oh . . . it’s nothing, really.”
Catharine didn’t feel reassured. Ever since Greta had met the soldier in town, Catharine had caught her daydreaming at odd times. That was more in character for Anna than Greta. Catharine shook the worry away when she heard Peter swing open the back door.
Smiling, he walked over to where she was standing and kissed her cheek, then hung his hat over the rung of the kitchen chair. “Hello, beautiful!”
Before she could answer, he glanced over at the table with a puzzled look on his face, but if he thought the fare was bare, he made no comment. Instead he headed to the sink to wash his hands.
“There wasn’t much that I could fix, Peter, but I hope this will do. Is there some meat I could use for dinner?” She felt her face flush as his gaze softened. Probably regrets his decision to make me his wife. “Greta, can you go call Anna and tell her lunch is ready? I don’t know where she got off to.”
Greta set the water pitcher down on the table. “I’ll go find her,” she said with exasperation in her tone.
As soon as she’d left the room, Peter pulled Catharine to him and gave her a long, delicious kiss that left her breathless. “Things would be different if we lived alone, you know.” He gave her waist a tight squeeze, and his hand felt warm through the fabric of her dress.
She winced. “If you’re regretting your decision, Peter—”
“I didn’t say that,” he said. “I’m just saying I might not have even left our bed this morning. I’d have you snuggled close to me until I had to go take care of the animals.” He grinned mischievously and his lips twitched when she leaned back to flash him a smile. He reached up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “You smell so good.”
“Oh. If you say so.”
“I say so, and since I’m the master of the house, what I say is a fact,” he teased. He kissed her brow before releasing her. “Will the girls be back soon?”
“We’re here now, Peter,” Greta said as she came through the kitchen door. Anna traipsed in behind her with grass stains on her dress and her blonde hair wild and loose.
“Anna, what happened to you?” Catharine stepped toward her sister.
“What?” Anna looked down at the marks on her dress. “Oh, that . . . well, ja , I suppose it’s from sitting in the grass by the creek. It’ll wash out, won’t it?”
Catharine just shook her head, “ Ja , but you’ll be the one to scrub it.”
Peter pulled out the chairs for them, then took his seat. “I’ll bless the food.” After he said “Amen,” he dished a helping of green beans onto his plate, then passed the bowl to Anna. She wrinkled her nose at the dish, passed
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