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Authors: Carolyn Brown
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moral standards. Anyway, she didn’t give me a choice. She stepped right up to the plate and told them she’d spent the night with me at the Ridge Motel.”
Eli cocked his head to one side. “Then you had to make an honest woman out of her, right?”
“Lord, no. She wouldn’t have a thing to do with me. Took me three months to talk her into marryin’ me. She wouldn’t believe that I’d been in love with her since we were kids. It got so bad that her grandma down in Louisiana had us both kidnapped and thrown out on an island in the swamp for a few days, so we’d have to either kiss or kill each other.”
A slow, lazy grin lit up Eli’s face. “I guess it’s pretty evident that you didn’t kill each other.”
“So that’s the story. I got down on one knee in her aunt’s restaurant over in Kensington, in front of all the family and friends I could talk into being there that day, and proposed right there in public in front of everyone and her momma.”
“A knight in shining whatever,” Eli said.
“You got it! If she wanted a whatever, then by damn, I’d give her a whatever. I had a shirt made with this big WHATEVER done in silver on the front. That way I was her knight in shining whatever for sure.”
“Romantic devil, ain’t you?” Eli teased.
“I’d have proposed naked as a jaybird under the red light beside the courthouse to get that woman. I never chasedafter anything so hard in my life. It was about to drive me crazy,” Hart said. “And if you ever tell her that, there will be a war between the white man and Indian man that will make Custer’s last stand look like a Girl Scout picnic.”
“Be careful there, white boy. You might wind up like Custer.”
“Maybe so, but if she ever found out that bit of information, I’d probably be better off dead.” Hart laughed.
“I’m glad I came to town today. Want to go out to the ranch now and see the cattle?” Eli changed the subject.
“Sure. I’ll follow you in my truck. You and Sophie fight most of the time, huh?”
“Not most of the time. All of the time,” Eli said as they walked out together.
Hart clapped him on the shoulder. “It’ll get better.”
“I’m not so sure I want it to. I’d just as soon she stay mad at me. Maybe then she’ll decide that she can’t live in the same house I do and sell me her half of the ranch,” Eli said.
“Keep dreaming. That ranch is like a Texan’s gun to Sophie. It’s what kept her sane after her rascal of a husband died. The only way you’ll get that ranch out of her hands is to pry it out of her cold dead fingers,” Hart said seriously.
Sophie nosed her truck close to the fence, got out, and slammed the door. She didn’t waste a lot of time getting from the truck into the house. If she was going to buy refrigerated air, then by golly she would enjoy it.
She smelled something good in the kitchen and followed her nose. Elijah was standing in front of the stove, stirringa pot of red sauce. He didn’t even look up when she sniffed the air.
“What is that?” she asked.
“My famous spaghetti sauce.”
“Is that supper?”
“It’s
my
supper. Don’t know what you are having,” he said.
“You’re not sharing?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“OK then, but remember it works both ways. What’s good for the goose is also good for the gander.”
She picked a bibbed apron from the hook beside the door and tied it around her neck. Then she went to work. In half an hour, with very little effort, she had bread dough doing a fast rise in the warm oven and a lasagna ready to bake. She removed the dough, turned the oven up to 350 degrees, and flopped the dough out onto a flour-covered cabinet as far away from Elijah as she could get. She quickly made it up into a dozen yeasty rolls and rolled the remaining dough out onto the cabinet until it was a little more than an inch thick and oblong in shape. She cut up a whole stick of butter on top of that, setting the pats just right, and
Eli cocked his head to one side. “Then you had to make an honest woman out of her, right?”
“Lord, no. She wouldn’t have a thing to do with me. Took me three months to talk her into marryin’ me. She wouldn’t believe that I’d been in love with her since we were kids. It got so bad that her grandma down in Louisiana had us both kidnapped and thrown out on an island in the swamp for a few days, so we’d have to either kiss or kill each other.”
A slow, lazy grin lit up Eli’s face. “I guess it’s pretty evident that you didn’t kill each other.”
“So that’s the story. I got down on one knee in her aunt’s restaurant over in Kensington, in front of all the family and friends I could talk into being there that day, and proposed right there in public in front of everyone and her momma.”
“A knight in shining whatever,” Eli said.
“You got it! If she wanted a whatever, then by damn, I’d give her a whatever. I had a shirt made with this big WHATEVER done in silver on the front. That way I was her knight in shining whatever for sure.”
“Romantic devil, ain’t you?” Eli teased.
“I’d have proposed naked as a jaybird under the red light beside the courthouse to get that woman. I never chasedafter anything so hard in my life. It was about to drive me crazy,” Hart said. “And if you ever tell her that, there will be a war between the white man and Indian man that will make Custer’s last stand look like a Girl Scout picnic.”
“Be careful there, white boy. You might wind up like Custer.”
“Maybe so, but if she ever found out that bit of information, I’d probably be better off dead.” Hart laughed.
“I’m glad I came to town today. Want to go out to the ranch now and see the cattle?” Eli changed the subject.
“Sure. I’ll follow you in my truck. You and Sophie fight most of the time, huh?”
“Not most of the time. All of the time,” Eli said as they walked out together.
Hart clapped him on the shoulder. “It’ll get better.”
“I’m not so sure I want it to. I’d just as soon she stay mad at me. Maybe then she’ll decide that she can’t live in the same house I do and sell me her half of the ranch,” Eli said.
“Keep dreaming. That ranch is like a Texan’s gun to Sophie. It’s what kept her sane after her rascal of a husband died. The only way you’ll get that ranch out of her hands is to pry it out of her cold dead fingers,” Hart said seriously.
Sophie nosed her truck close to the fence, got out, and slammed the door. She didn’t waste a lot of time getting from the truck into the house. If she was going to buy refrigerated air, then by golly she would enjoy it.
She smelled something good in the kitchen and followed her nose. Elijah was standing in front of the stove, stirringa pot of red sauce. He didn’t even look up when she sniffed the air.
“What is that?” she asked.
“My famous spaghetti sauce.”
“Is that supper?”
“It’s
my
supper. Don’t know what you are having,” he said.
“You’re not sharing?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“OK then, but remember it works both ways. What’s good for the goose is also good for the gander.”
She picked a bibbed apron from the hook beside the door and tied it around her neck. Then she went to work. In half an hour, with very little effort, she had bread dough doing a fast rise in the warm oven and a lasagna ready to bake. She removed the dough, turned the oven up to 350 degrees, and flopped the dough out onto a flour-covered cabinet as far away from Elijah as she could get. She quickly made it up into a dozen yeasty rolls and rolled the remaining dough out onto the cabinet until it was a little more than an inch thick and oblong in shape. She cut up a whole stick of butter on top of that, setting the pats just right, and
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