Read Online Desert Angel by Pamela K Forrest - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Pamela K Forrest
Ads: Link
“And peaches, Jamie. Someday, when you’re a lot older, we’ll have some as a special treat. Maybe for your birthday or at Christmas.”
Making biscuits was second nature, done for years and requiring no thought. By the time the fire had burned down to a nice layer of ashes, she had the dutch oven filled with fat balls of dough. She put it in the fire, placing a thick layer of hot ashes on the lid.
The coffee was bubbling merrily, filling the kitchen with its rich aroma and making her stomach rumble louder. When the scent of the biscuits drifted out from the fireplace, she knew she’d die before she could eat.
Wanting badly to use the flowered plates, but knowing that something that pretty was kept for special occasions, March found a wooden plate and a tin cup. By the time she’d poured her coffee and given it a few minutes to cool, she knew she could wait no longer for the biscuits, or she’d truly starve.
When they were golden brown and light as a feather, March placed two of them on her plate. She sat at the table where she could look out at the mountains, and still keep an eye on the baby.
Longing for some fatback or some of the jam her mother had once made from a cactus, she bit into the biscuit. Her gaze was captured again by the peaches, and she closed her eyes to avoid temptation. Peaches were just too expensive, costing nearly a dollar a can.
Jamie obligingly slept until she had finished her breakfast. She watched contentedly as he began to wake, stretching first his arms and then his legs. His head came up off of the blanket and bobbed uncontrollably. When he began to whimper, March bent over and picked him up.
“Good morning, again, little man.” Opening her dress, she smiled as he nursed hungrily. “You sure are the eatin’est boy I ever saw. If you keep this up, you’ll be full grown before you walk.”
The baby blinked big blue eyes at her, trying to focus. “I think when you’ve finished your breakfast, we’ll see about giving you a bath. I’ve got to wash my dress, and get it out so that it can dry. Then, if you’re real good, maybe we’ll go exploring.”
By the time March had bathed the baby, washed her dress, and cleaned up the kitchen, she was exhausted. Carrying Jamie securely in her arm, she climbed the stairs.
“Maybe we better take just a little nap.” She kissed his soft cheek and laid him in his bed. “We can take a walk after you wake up.”
March laid down on the soft bed and thought of all the fabulous things she had discovered in the house. Why, the bed had two sheets and a nicely made patchwork quilt. It was a treat to sleep in a bed instead of on the floor, and nearly impossible to imagine sleeping between sheets!
It truly was a castle, she decided. A lingering sadness threatened to overwhelm her. Mama had told stories about her childhood home in Virginia, describing the house that she’d grown up in. It hadn’t been nearly as glorious as this one, though. She wished that she could bring Mama and the little ones here to live. It would make their lives so much happier. With a sigh, she accepted the idea as impossible, knowing that by now Papa had pulled up stakes again and was headed far away.
Forcing her thoughts away from her vanishing family, March slipped into sleep with visions of canned peaches dancing behind her closed lids.
By early afternoon, March was ready to go exploring. She made a sling that held Jamie securely to her chest, and walked through the kitchen and out the back door.
The house sat away from the other ranch buildings and there were no plants or bushes to soften the stark lines of the structure. March studied it for a while. She delighted in the many things inside, but didn’t find any pleasure at looking at the outside. Somehow, it seemed out of place, as if it didn’t match its rugged surroundings.
“Well, Jamie boy, it surely is a castle, but I think it belongs in one of Ma’s fairy stories.” She hugged the baby that laid
Making biscuits was second nature, done for years and requiring no thought. By the time the fire had burned down to a nice layer of ashes, she had the dutch oven filled with fat balls of dough. She put it in the fire, placing a thick layer of hot ashes on the lid.
The coffee was bubbling merrily, filling the kitchen with its rich aroma and making her stomach rumble louder. When the scent of the biscuits drifted out from the fireplace, she knew she’d die before she could eat.
Wanting badly to use the flowered plates, but knowing that something that pretty was kept for special occasions, March found a wooden plate and a tin cup. By the time she’d poured her coffee and given it a few minutes to cool, she knew she could wait no longer for the biscuits, or she’d truly starve.
When they were golden brown and light as a feather, March placed two of them on her plate. She sat at the table where she could look out at the mountains, and still keep an eye on the baby.
Longing for some fatback or some of the jam her mother had once made from a cactus, she bit into the biscuit. Her gaze was captured again by the peaches, and she closed her eyes to avoid temptation. Peaches were just too expensive, costing nearly a dollar a can.
Jamie obligingly slept until she had finished her breakfast. She watched contentedly as he began to wake, stretching first his arms and then his legs. His head came up off of the blanket and bobbed uncontrollably. When he began to whimper, March bent over and picked him up.
“Good morning, again, little man.” Opening her dress, she smiled as he nursed hungrily. “You sure are the eatin’est boy I ever saw. If you keep this up, you’ll be full grown before you walk.”
The baby blinked big blue eyes at her, trying to focus. “I think when you’ve finished your breakfast, we’ll see about giving you a bath. I’ve got to wash my dress, and get it out so that it can dry. Then, if you’re real good, maybe we’ll go exploring.”
By the time March had bathed the baby, washed her dress, and cleaned up the kitchen, she was exhausted. Carrying Jamie securely in her arm, she climbed the stairs.
“Maybe we better take just a little nap.” She kissed his soft cheek and laid him in his bed. “We can take a walk after you wake up.”
March laid down on the soft bed and thought of all the fabulous things she had discovered in the house. Why, the bed had two sheets and a nicely made patchwork quilt. It was a treat to sleep in a bed instead of on the floor, and nearly impossible to imagine sleeping between sheets!
It truly was a castle, she decided. A lingering sadness threatened to overwhelm her. Mama had told stories about her childhood home in Virginia, describing the house that she’d grown up in. It hadn’t been nearly as glorious as this one, though. She wished that she could bring Mama and the little ones here to live. It would make their lives so much happier. With a sigh, she accepted the idea as impossible, knowing that by now Papa had pulled up stakes again and was headed far away.
Forcing her thoughts away from her vanishing family, March slipped into sleep with visions of canned peaches dancing behind her closed lids.
By early afternoon, March was ready to go exploring. She made a sling that held Jamie securely to her chest, and walked through the kitchen and out the back door.
The house sat away from the other ranch buildings and there were no plants or bushes to soften the stark lines of the structure. March studied it for a while. She delighted in the many things inside, but didn’t find any pleasure at looking at the outside. Somehow, it seemed out of place, as if it didn’t match its rugged surroundings.
“Well, Jamie boy, it surely is a castle, but I think it belongs in one of Ma’s fairy stories.” She hugged the baby that laid
Similar Books
