Read Online Lilly: Bride of Illinois (American Mail-Order Bride 21) by Linda K. Hubalek - Free Book Online

two bull breeders whose stock I’d recommend to Mr. Brenner for the Cross C cattle herd. One was from St. Louis, Missouri and the other from Topeka, Kansas, so closer to central Kansas than most of the breeders at this show. I’ve met people from Canada to Maine on this trip. It’s amazing how far people travel to bring livestock to this show, but it’s a great way to advertise your pedigreed stock.”
    A thick slab of ham, plus a slice of a cheddar cheese between two buttered pieces of fresh-baked bread made a filling sandwich. Lilly enjoyed every bite while watching Mr. Reagan talk. He didn’t do gestures as some people, but sat telling her about his day in a calm, gentle manner.
    “I also spent time looking at the horses this afternoon. I actually liked the mare group you spent last night with, and I picked several stallions I’d be interested in, too.”
    “When’s the sale?”
    “Day after tomorrow, so maybe you’ll be rested enough to join me at the auction, give me your advice,” he slowly grinned.
    “Besides seeing horse teams pulling wagons and carriages in Lawrence, it’s been a few years since I rode a horse.”
    “Ah, but you’ve ridden, so you grew up on a farm? We haven’t talked about your family or life in Sweden. What did your father do, if you don’t mind me asking?”
    “Sharecropper for a rich man,” was all she said before taking another bite of sandwich.
    “So you’ve been around livestock then.”
    Lilly chewed and swallowed her bite before answering him. “My parents were too poor to have more than a milk cow and a plow horse, but when I moved to the manor farm, I did livestock chores besides taking care of their young children.”
    “That’s kind of a strange job combination for a housemaid, isn’t it?”
    How did she answer his question, and how much did she want to tell him about her childhood? “I wasn’t a housemaid. I moved there when I was ten years old, doing chores early, before the master’s children woke up. After they went to bed, I did my evening chores.”
    “That’s young to start working outside the home, but I guess no different than child labor in America—be it on the farm or in a factory.”
    “Yes, in Lawrence, Boston, and wherever factories are, children work in them as well as their parents. And the families still have a hard time surviving on the low wages,” she sighed, thinking of some families she’d known in their neighborhood.
    “Our family was ‘as poor as church mice’, as they say, when us six boys were little, since Da, my father, is a preacher. Probably half his pay was in meat and produce though, so we always had enough to eat. Ma had a big vegetable garden behind the house, too.
    I’ve been half starved all my life, Lilly thought.
    “I always raid Ma’s canned goods when she’s done pickling in the fall. I love her dill pickles and they aren’t something I could make myself or buy in the store. She has a special recipe she rarely shares. I’ve been doing it for five years now, so she makes extra jars of them just for me.”
    He looked lost in thought. “What made you decide to come to America?”
    “Like all immigrants, it was a way to start over,” Lilly quickly said before taking the last bite of the sandwich.
    Mr. Reagan sat back in his chair, staring at her face. “I’d say there’s more to your story—and, if you ever want to share it with me—I’ll listen without judgement.”
    Why couldn’t Mr. Hardesty have been a decent man like Mr. Reagan?
    “The other thing I need to mention is the police are looking for you, but a certain blue dress will be found stained and torn in Bubbly Creek fairly soon, so hopefully that will stop Hardesty’s active hunt for you.”
    “How did you manage that?”
    “Better you don’t know,” was all he’d reply. “I hated to throw the dress away though because I thought the dark blue color was very fetching with your pretty strawberry–blonde hair. Don’t get me wrong,