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Authors: The Cowboy's Surprise Bride
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heart.”
A man needed a good feed, especially after working out in the cold. “I could continue to take my meals over at the cookhouse.”
Linette’s brow furrowed. “Are you suggesting I can’t manage? I’ll learn. You’ll see. Just give me a chance.” She sucked in air and opened her mouth to start again.
“Okay. Okay.” He held up his palm toward her to stop any further argument. “I’ll see how things go.” Besides, he could well imagine Cookie’s protests if he left the ladies alone and sought his meals with the rest of the crew. No, sir, he didn’t need to get a tongue-lashing from that direction. “Maybe Cookie will help you.”
Her shoulders sank several inches in relief and she let out a noisy gust. “Thank you. You won’t be sorry.”
He kept any contrary opinion to himself, but he’d been nothing but sorry since she’d landed on his ranch. He expected he’d be sorry until the day she left.
As he waited for her to prepare breakfast he went to the window and scratched a peephole in the frost. Slim and Roper hustled toward the cookhouse. They slid their attention toward the cabin, saw him peeking through the foggy glass and nodded as if they only wanted to say good-morning when he knew they burned up with curiosity.
“Um.” Linette sounded mildly worried. “Is it supposed to smoke like this?”
He spun around. The fry pan smoked like a smoldering fire. “It’s too hot. Pull it to the side.”
She reached for it without any protection on her hands.
“Wait. Don’t touch it.”
But her palm touched the hot handle and she jerked back with a gasp.
At that moment the pan caught fire.
Cassie jerked to her feet and pulled Grady after her as she retreated to the far corner, casting desperate looks at the door—their only escape route.
Linette danced about. “What do I do?” She grabbed a towel and flapped it.
“Stop. You’re only making it worse. Get out of the way.” He crossed the room in three strides, grabbed a nearby lid and clamped it over the pan. He snatched the towel from her hands, clutched the hot fry pan and dashed for the door. He jerked it open and tossed the sizzling pan into the snowbank. It melted down a good eight inches.
He tossed the towel to the table and grabbed her wrist. “Let me see that.” He turned her palm upward. The base of her fingers was red and already forming blisters. “Put snow on it.”
She seemed incapable of moving, so he pulled her to the door, grabbed a handful of snow and plastered the burnt area.
“Oh, that feels good.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Are you trying to burn the place down?”
She glowered back. “You could have told me this might happen.”
“Told you?” He sputtered and slowed his breathing. “You said you were prepared to be a pioneer housewife. But you can’t even fry bacon.”
“I most certainly can and will.” She marched past him and back to the house, grabbed the hunk of bacon and whacked off pieces, unmindful of the pain the burns surely gave.
Grady whimpered. Cassie pulled him close. “Shush, child.”
Linette gave the boy a tight smile. “Everything is fine, Grady. Don’t worry.”
Eddie watched her butcher the meat. “You’ll have a great time trying to fry those.”
“I’ll fry them.” Whack. Whack .
“Three days from now perhaps.”
She paused. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re cutting them too thick.”
“Fine.” She slowed down and methodically sliced narrow strips.
He went to retrieve the fry pan, scrubbing as much of the charcoal from it as he could with snow. “Practically ruined a perfectly good pot,” he muttered.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“Not a blame thing.” He took the burnt pot inside and poured boiling water into it then set to scrubbing it clean.
“I can do that,” she protested.
Somehow he doubted she was a fraction as capable as she tried to make him believe.
“I will make a great pioneer wife.” She spit the
A man needed a good feed, especially after working out in the cold. “I could continue to take my meals over at the cookhouse.”
Linette’s brow furrowed. “Are you suggesting I can’t manage? I’ll learn. You’ll see. Just give me a chance.” She sucked in air and opened her mouth to start again.
“Okay. Okay.” He held up his palm toward her to stop any further argument. “I’ll see how things go.” Besides, he could well imagine Cookie’s protests if he left the ladies alone and sought his meals with the rest of the crew. No, sir, he didn’t need to get a tongue-lashing from that direction. “Maybe Cookie will help you.”
Her shoulders sank several inches in relief and she let out a noisy gust. “Thank you. You won’t be sorry.”
He kept any contrary opinion to himself, but he’d been nothing but sorry since she’d landed on his ranch. He expected he’d be sorry until the day she left.
As he waited for her to prepare breakfast he went to the window and scratched a peephole in the frost. Slim and Roper hustled toward the cookhouse. They slid their attention toward the cabin, saw him peeking through the foggy glass and nodded as if they only wanted to say good-morning when he knew they burned up with curiosity.
“Um.” Linette sounded mildly worried. “Is it supposed to smoke like this?”
He spun around. The fry pan smoked like a smoldering fire. “It’s too hot. Pull it to the side.”
She reached for it without any protection on her hands.
“Wait. Don’t touch it.”
But her palm touched the hot handle and she jerked back with a gasp.
At that moment the pan caught fire.
Cassie jerked to her feet and pulled Grady after her as she retreated to the far corner, casting desperate looks at the door—their only escape route.
Linette danced about. “What do I do?” She grabbed a towel and flapped it.
“Stop. You’re only making it worse. Get out of the way.” He crossed the room in three strides, grabbed a nearby lid and clamped it over the pan. He snatched the towel from her hands, clutched the hot fry pan and dashed for the door. He jerked it open and tossed the sizzling pan into the snowbank. It melted down a good eight inches.
He tossed the towel to the table and grabbed her wrist. “Let me see that.” He turned her palm upward. The base of her fingers was red and already forming blisters. “Put snow on it.”
She seemed incapable of moving, so he pulled her to the door, grabbed a handful of snow and plastered the burnt area.
“Oh, that feels good.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Are you trying to burn the place down?”
She glowered back. “You could have told me this might happen.”
“Told you?” He sputtered and slowed his breathing. “You said you were prepared to be a pioneer housewife. But you can’t even fry bacon.”
“I most certainly can and will.” She marched past him and back to the house, grabbed the hunk of bacon and whacked off pieces, unmindful of the pain the burns surely gave.
Grady whimpered. Cassie pulled him close. “Shush, child.”
Linette gave the boy a tight smile. “Everything is fine, Grady. Don’t worry.”
Eddie watched her butcher the meat. “You’ll have a great time trying to fry those.”
“I’ll fry them.” Whack. Whack .
“Three days from now perhaps.”
She paused. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re cutting them too thick.”
“Fine.” She slowed down and methodically sliced narrow strips.
He went to retrieve the fry pan, scrubbing as much of the charcoal from it as he could with snow. “Practically ruined a perfectly good pot,” he muttered.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“Not a blame thing.” He took the burnt pot inside and poured boiling water into it then set to scrubbing it clean.
“I can do that,” she protested.
Somehow he doubted she was a fraction as capable as she tried to make him believe.
“I will make a great pioneer wife.” She spit the
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