Read Online The Brides Of Tombstone 01 Mail Order Outlaw by Cynthia Woolf - Free Book Online
Authors: Cynthia Woolf
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A small kitchen was to the left and behind the table straight in front of the door was a huge rock fire place, with cooking arm and pot. Simple and functional. All anyone who got caught by bad weather would need to ride it out.
“Put the saddle bags on the kitchen counter,” Lizzie pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “We’ll deal with them later. For now let’s get the horses unharnessed and in the pen for the night.”
“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.” He set the bags on the counter and followed her back outside. “For the night?” He repeated not sure he heard her right.
“I think it’s too late to try and get back to the ranch tonight. I don’t want to get caught in the storm.” She pointed upward.
Only then did Ed notice the darkening sky.
“So we’re spending the night at the cabin?” He swallowed hard. A night alone with Lizzie might just kill him.
“Yeah.” She put her hands on her hips. “You have a problem with that?”
“No.” Ed shook his head, amused by the righteousness in her tone. “We’re already engaged to be married, so you couldn’t be trying to rope me into marrying you. I don’t care about gossip, and sounds to me like you don’t either.”
“I don’t. When you’re a half-breed you hear it all anyway.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call yourself that.”
“What? Half-breed?” She shrugged. “It’s what I am. Most of the people who use that term think they are insulting me because I’m not white, but I’m proud of my mother, proud to be a part of her. I’m proud to be a half-breed. The name doesn’t hurt me.”
He was taken aback by her response, and yet it did make sense to him. “I never thought of it that way, but you’re right. I’d be proud to call Atina ‘mother’, too.”
“I’m sure she’d like that. You’ll have to ask her.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
Lizzie went into the kitchen. “Why don’t you see if you can get a fire going? The date may be the end of July, but we’ll need the warmth before the night is through.”
Ed walked outside to where he’d seen wood stacked against the wall of the shack and brought in an armful. Building a fire was something he was good at, having done it all his life. Kindling was piled next to the fireplace. He took some of the small sticks and formed a teepee shape, stacked three pieces of wood in the same shape over the kindling, lit a match and held it against the dry pieces of twigs and weeds.
“You’re pretty good with that, for a tenderfoot.”
Lizzie cocked an eyebrow.
Ed thought the jig was up, but she just looked at him a moment and then went back to preparing their supper.
He should tell her but he wanted to wait until after they were married or at least until she fell in love with him. He was sure she would, he couldn’t be alone in that feeling, could he? The more time he spent with her the more he found loving her easy.
Never had he known a more resilient, disciplined woman. Every day she was insulted and rather than be upset by the name calling, she reveled in it. He admired her attitude. It showed him that everything isn’t always viewed the same by everyone.
“My dad used to take me camping when I was a kid.” He hoped that was safe to say. He’d read Mal’s letters to her and didn’t remember anything like this being mentioned. “This is one of the things he taught me. He loved the wildness of camping out in the middle of nowhere. Away from the city and all his problems.”
“It’s wonderful to have that memory. You were a young man when you lost your dad and though I was older when my dad died, I think similar experience is one of the reasons I chose you.”
“And I you.” He agreed. He’d read the correspondence so quickly, he didn’t remember what all was in them, but he could picture Mal writing something like that.
The fire crackled merrily and the shack began to warm up. Ed went into the kitchen and unpacked the remainder of the food from the
“Put the saddle bags on the kitchen counter,” Lizzie pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “We’ll deal with them later. For now let’s get the horses unharnessed and in the pen for the night.”
“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.” He set the bags on the counter and followed her back outside. “For the night?” He repeated not sure he heard her right.
“I think it’s too late to try and get back to the ranch tonight. I don’t want to get caught in the storm.” She pointed upward.
Only then did Ed notice the darkening sky.
“So we’re spending the night at the cabin?” He swallowed hard. A night alone with Lizzie might just kill him.
“Yeah.” She put her hands on her hips. “You have a problem with that?”
“No.” Ed shook his head, amused by the righteousness in her tone. “We’re already engaged to be married, so you couldn’t be trying to rope me into marrying you. I don’t care about gossip, and sounds to me like you don’t either.”
“I don’t. When you’re a half-breed you hear it all anyway.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call yourself that.”
“What? Half-breed?” She shrugged. “It’s what I am. Most of the people who use that term think they are insulting me because I’m not white, but I’m proud of my mother, proud to be a part of her. I’m proud to be a half-breed. The name doesn’t hurt me.”
He was taken aback by her response, and yet it did make sense to him. “I never thought of it that way, but you’re right. I’d be proud to call Atina ‘mother’, too.”
“I’m sure she’d like that. You’ll have to ask her.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
Lizzie went into the kitchen. “Why don’t you see if you can get a fire going? The date may be the end of July, but we’ll need the warmth before the night is through.”
Ed walked outside to where he’d seen wood stacked against the wall of the shack and brought in an armful. Building a fire was something he was good at, having done it all his life. Kindling was piled next to the fireplace. He took some of the small sticks and formed a teepee shape, stacked three pieces of wood in the same shape over the kindling, lit a match and held it against the dry pieces of twigs and weeds.
“You’re pretty good with that, for a tenderfoot.”
Lizzie cocked an eyebrow.
Ed thought the jig was up, but she just looked at him a moment and then went back to preparing their supper.
He should tell her but he wanted to wait until after they were married or at least until she fell in love with him. He was sure she would, he couldn’t be alone in that feeling, could he? The more time he spent with her the more he found loving her easy.
Never had he known a more resilient, disciplined woman. Every day she was insulted and rather than be upset by the name calling, she reveled in it. He admired her attitude. It showed him that everything isn’t always viewed the same by everyone.
“My dad used to take me camping when I was a kid.” He hoped that was safe to say. He’d read Mal’s letters to her and didn’t remember anything like this being mentioned. “This is one of the things he taught me. He loved the wildness of camping out in the middle of nowhere. Away from the city and all his problems.”
“It’s wonderful to have that memory. You were a young man when you lost your dad and though I was older when my dad died, I think similar experience is one of the reasons I chose you.”
“And I you.” He agreed. He’d read the correspondence so quickly, he didn’t remember what all was in them, but he could picture Mal writing something like that.
The fire crackled merrily and the shack began to warm up. Ed went into the kitchen and unpacked the remainder of the food from the
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