help.
“And I look nice, too,” Daniel announced and took his brother’s hand.
“You’re right. You both look nice, and you both look very clean, thanks to Miss Ellie. Try to stay that way,” he cautioned.
Before either one of the boys could respond, Ellie charged past the three of them and headed directly for the cookstove. He followed her with his gaze, caught the now-familiar scent of a burnt meal, and let out a sigh.
“Mercy!” she cried, grabbing the end of her apron with each hand and lifting the pot off the burners on the middle step of the stove. Almost immediately, she let go of the pot, which dropped to the floor, splattering stew in every direction.
With her cheeks flaming and bits of stew clinging to her apron and the hem of her skirts, her eyes filled with tears. She paused for less than a heartbeat before she charged past him to get to the sink and frantically pumped water over one of her hands.
Concerned, he stood up and walked over to her, with both boys right on his heels. “Are you all right?”
She blinked back more tears and waved them all away. “I’ll be fine, which is more than I can say for your dinner. I’m afraid I burned it, again, which really doesn’t matter now that it’s nothing more than a mess all over the kitchen floor.”
A sudden, heavy pounding at the back door made it pointless to offer her a single reassuring word, but he murmured it anyway before he turned and walked over to the door to see who might be calling.
Ten
The last thing Ellie needed or wanted right now was a house full of visitors, expected or otherwise.
The moment Jackson opened the door and not one, but four, people barged inside, bringing a burst of cold, wet air in with them, whatever pride or self-respect she had left completely disintegrated. Unfortunately, with the mess of dinner and soapy water on the floor and the brass tub taking up a lot of room, they had to stand shoulder to shoulder.
The gaiety that erupted spontaneously in front of her did little to soften the disappointment of her most recent disaster in the kitchen. She was too sleep-deprived and too bothered by the blisters on her left hand to join in or to even care that her apron was badly stained or that some of the stew was stuck to the hem of her skirts.
As each of the visitors handed their wet outer garments to Jackson, he introduced them to her. “You know Michael Grant, of course. This is his wife, Alice,” he said, taking a rain slicker from a very round, cherry-cheeked woman, who appeared to be nearing sixty.
“Just call me Alice. I hope you don’t mind our invasion, but I didn’t want to wait another day to meet Jackson’s new wife,” she offered after removing her bonnet.
Ellie mustered a small smile. “I don’t mind at all, though I’m surprised anyone would venture out in a storm like this.”
When Alice laughed, her belly shook. “We’ve had worse storms. Besides, that new covered wagon your husband bought to keep his precious apples out of the weather when they’re headed to market kept all of us fairly dry, except for Michael,” she teased, leaning forward to wipe away the water dripping from her husband’s brow.
“I had a feeling you’d find good use for the wagon, too,” Jackson quipped, then turned his attention to the young woman struggling to hold Ethan on her hip while Daniel clutched at her skirts.
The girl appeared to be young, not yet twenty. The spectacles she wore, however, were very thick and magnified her deep-set hazel eyes, making her appear older.
Jackson smiled at her. “This is Grizel, their daughter, who might just have to convince the boys to let her remove her cape before they—”
“I’m fine, and my cape is nearly dry,” she argued and offered Ellie a smile. “It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Smith. If you wouldn’t mind, I’ll just hang up my things in the other room and keep the boys occupied there with something or other,” she said, then disappeared with them
“And I look nice, too,” Daniel announced and took his brother’s hand.
“You’re right. You both look nice, and you both look very clean, thanks to Miss Ellie. Try to stay that way,” he cautioned.
Before either one of the boys could respond, Ellie charged past the three of them and headed directly for the cookstove. He followed her with his gaze, caught the now-familiar scent of a burnt meal, and let out a sigh.
“Mercy!” she cried, grabbing the end of her apron with each hand and lifting the pot off the burners on the middle step of the stove. Almost immediately, she let go of the pot, which dropped to the floor, splattering stew in every direction.
With her cheeks flaming and bits of stew clinging to her apron and the hem of her skirts, her eyes filled with tears. She paused for less than a heartbeat before she charged past him to get to the sink and frantically pumped water over one of her hands.
Concerned, he stood up and walked over to her, with both boys right on his heels. “Are you all right?”
She blinked back more tears and waved them all away. “I’ll be fine, which is more than I can say for your dinner. I’m afraid I burned it, again, which really doesn’t matter now that it’s nothing more than a mess all over the kitchen floor.”
A sudden, heavy pounding at the back door made it pointless to offer her a single reassuring word, but he murmured it anyway before he turned and walked over to the door to see who might be calling.
Ten
The last thing Ellie needed or wanted right now was a house full of visitors, expected or otherwise.
The moment Jackson opened the door and not one, but four, people barged inside, bringing a burst of cold, wet air in with them, whatever pride or self-respect she had left completely disintegrated. Unfortunately, with the mess of dinner and soapy water on the floor and the brass tub taking up a lot of room, they had to stand shoulder to shoulder.
The gaiety that erupted spontaneously in front of her did little to soften the disappointment of her most recent disaster in the kitchen. She was too sleep-deprived and too bothered by the blisters on her left hand to join in or to even care that her apron was badly stained or that some of the stew was stuck to the hem of her skirts.
As each of the visitors handed their wet outer garments to Jackson, he introduced them to her. “You know Michael Grant, of course. This is his wife, Alice,” he said, taking a rain slicker from a very round, cherry-cheeked woman, who appeared to be nearing sixty.
“Just call me Alice. I hope you don’t mind our invasion, but I didn’t want to wait another day to meet Jackson’s new wife,” she offered after removing her bonnet.
Ellie mustered a small smile. “I don’t mind at all, though I’m surprised anyone would venture out in a storm like this.”
When Alice laughed, her belly shook. “We’ve had worse storms. Besides, that new covered wagon your husband bought to keep his precious apples out of the weather when they’re headed to market kept all of us fairly dry, except for Michael,” she teased, leaning forward to wipe away the water dripping from her husband’s brow.
“I had a feeling you’d find good use for the wagon, too,” Jackson quipped, then turned his attention to the young woman struggling to hold Ethan on her hip while Daniel clutched at her skirts.
The girl appeared to be young, not yet twenty. The spectacles she wore, however, were very thick and magnified her deep-set hazel eyes, making her appear older.
Jackson smiled at her. “This is Grizel, their daughter, who might just have to convince the boys to let her remove her cape before they—”
“I’m fine, and my cape is nearly dry,” she argued and offered Ellie a smile. “It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Smith. If you wouldn’t mind, I’ll just hang up my things in the other room and keep the boys occupied there with something or other,” she said, then disappeared with them
Similar Books
